Thank you for my Beta: dear_tiger and jonjokeat. And for everyone who follows and reviews. Thank you Grim1989 :-D


Third Level: Prepare the wand.

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When Sam came to, he was being laid up on the worn couch in the living room with his head pounding and his insides raw as if someone had cut out his heart and lungs and scrubbed them with salt water before putting them back inside. His right hand grappled for the back of the couch as he struggled to sit up while his left palmed his chest in a soothing motion. Bobby was nowhere to be found but it was not like Sam spent time looking for him, because his attention was soon occupied by the still body slumped on a mattress next to the high pile of books not too far from the couch.

Sam pulled himself off the couch and fell unceremoniously down onto the floor with a loud thud. Then, he half crawled, half dragged his ass to Dean's side, his body devoid of energy. He felt tired right to the marrow. He hovered over the motionless body of his brother. Hope and fear warred for dominance inside his heart as he did nothing but stare.

Dean looked peaceful, or as peaceful as he could be considering that he was cursed to sleep for eternity. The revelation that the curse was not a mere bonding curse but a variation of a sleeping curse, a dangerous sleeping curse, had shaken Sam's confidence to see it to the end. At the time, Sam did not think much beyond getting Dean's soul to safety after he was dragged to hell. The crossroad demons knew how to do their job right. They had done it for centuries and had trapped the cleverest and smartest human being in history. Their contract was flawless with not even a needle sized loophole, Sam knew. So, instead of screwing himself over the content of the contract, Sam thought about the terms outside of the contract.

Basically, the contract would be met exactly a year after Dean made the deal and it ended, must end when Dean went to hell. Not a day before, not a day after. As much as Sam loathed them, punctuality was crucial to demons. That was the only thing that could be relied upon with these lying, scheming bastards. Dean would die right at the exact time as the contract dictated. Then, the contract would be met and declared null. Dean would be free to do anything as long as it did not jeopardize the contract, in the other words, as long as Dean went to hell, or Sam would drop dead in an instant. But one thing about Demons that Sam knew, only too well, was that they were a bunch of arrogant bastards.

For most people, hell was an abstract concept at most and many did not believe in it at all but Sam knew hell existed because that was where demons came from. A creature so vile and so evil that Sam could only shudder to imagine how bad the place must be. Yet, still, no human ever graced hell except for the dead and that was where the contract ended. It ended when Dean died. No terms were stated for after his death because demons were confident that no human could ever enter hell and leave again as they pleased. This was Sam's playground. He could do anything short of summoning an angel to pull Dean out of hell and the demons would do nothing except getting pissed. Yes, Sam believed in angels. What was not to believe, he had met one hadn't he? He was sure there were more powerful angels beside the cherub he summoned few months back. It was only natural that when there was evil in the world, there would be good too. There had to be.

If only the curse would work.

Saying that Sam had been under a lot of pressure was a huge understatement. In those last few weeks before Dean had gone to hell, Sam had spent the time being short with his brother; always snapping and lashing out at him for no apparent reason. To make matters worse, Dean would not rise to the bait. He would only look at Sam with sad, forlorn eyes that cut Sam deeply, before saying sorry and leaving the room. Sam had known that Dean wanted to spend time with him, to make the last moments of his life memorable but Sam just could not do it. He couldn't wrap the idea of Dean going to hell around his head let alone accept it. Moreover he'd been busy fretting over the curse.

It was a binding curse, Sam had known that. There were many pointers that showed the characteristics of a binding ritual but it was also incomplete. Sam had known that too. The spell should have been more detailed about rousing the victim from the spell induced sleep. Yet, there was nothing in the script that said when and how it should be done. Sam had even contacted the archeologist's wife and his colleagues for the original script and asked them if there was more information but none of them had given him a satisfactory answer. It was not until after they had Bobby's findings that they finally learned the curse was never meant to be finished.

Sam had been pressed for time. Lilith was getting close, too close on their heels and he had no other choice but to perform the ritual right away before one of her hell hounds could rip Dean to shreds. No one escaped hell hounds.

"Dean…"

Sam's voice was soft almost afraid. He scrutinized his brother's face for any sign of awareness, of any sign that the spell had worked.

"Dean…"

His hand hovered above Dean's face, feeling the soft movement of his breath. At least he was alive.

"Dean?" Sam hesitantly touched his palm to Dean's left cheek, shaking him a little. "Dean?!" But however many times and however hard he shook him, Dean remained still and unresponsive. It was not long before Sam was screaming above his brother's face, pleading for him to wake up.

The reversing spell was his last hope. Between cursing Dean for the first time and finding the reversing spell, not even once Sam lost hope. He had always been calm and reasonable, engaging Bobby in intellectual discussion and even when Bobby had reprimanded him, he'd taken it in his stride. Now, it was as if all hope had gone. He knew they had nothing besides the reversing spell and even then, as Bobby said, it did not guarantee success.

Sam screamed and cried until his voice became hoarse and his nose filled with snot. He didn't even register when Bobby came home and dragged his six foot four inches of a body across the room to the couch where he curled his trembling body on the floor. He thought he'd heard Bobby say something but he couldn't make out what it was because his ears were ringing and his mind was filled with hopeless denial over his brother's state. In the end, Bobby left him alone.

Sam was barely aware of what happened in the next days. He vaguely remembered helping Bobby take Dean's body upstairs but the rest of it was a blur. Sam spent the next month drinking and moping around the house. He even stopped taking care of Dean and leaving it all off to Bobby. Not that there were many things to do as it turned out, Dean's body did not need any food to stay alive, the spell had taken care of it. After the first accident that he had, it seemed as though the digestive system of his body had come to a halt. While his heartbeat stayed at the same speed and his breathing stayed normal, his body needed no sustenance. Bobby thought it was a side effect of the second version of the curse. The original curse was an eternal sleeping curse that put the victim into an immortal slumber. It was a neat curse; Bobby said and allowed him to concentrate on working on the counter curse without being bothered by Dean's care.

Of course, it was not as easy for Sam.

Every second he felt the pull, he was always reminded of his failure. It was worse because the pull seemed to be a fraction stronger than a month ago. There were no more leads and no sign that Dean had been saved from hell. Surely, if the spell had been successful Dean would be awake by now. Sam had probably botched the first curse. Instead of anchoring Dean's soul, he had probably got him lost somewhere in hell. Retrieving him would definitely be harder now. So, he tried hard to numb the feeling by drinking.

"How much longer you're gonna mope around like that?" asked Bobby one day when he'd finally got fed up with Sam's grumpiness and unproductiveness. "It's not gonna help Dean much, you know?"

"Does anything?" retorted Sam apathetically.

He was slumped down on the couch nursing a bottle of Jack, the second one that day. Bobby let out an annoyed sigh.

"I can't deal with you right now, Sam. I'm knee deep in research for a case and with your brother's case as well I believe I've overworked my brain and soon it'll leak out of my ears, but if you decide not to help me with it then you better make yourself useful elsewhere."

"You throwing me out, Bobby?" Sam's head was lolling left and right.

"I'm trying to stop you from getting alcohol poisoning. Now, get up from that couch, get sober and I want you out of here by tomorrow afternoon!"

"You sending me to hunt alone?" asked Sam, squinting his eyes at the spot where he thought Bobby's voice had come from.

"It's a simple salt and burn. Nothing you can't handle."

That was why Sam found himself in the middle of a graveyard, in the dead of night, somewhere in Indiana, standing in front of the newly turned grave of a sixteen year old girl who had haunted her former best friend for stealing her boyfriend. The smell of burnt ashes had invaded his nostril and the smoke had burned his eyes but Sam stood there silently. His mind flew back to two years ago when he and Dean had had to burn their father's body. Deep in his heart, he was grateful that he hadn't had to burn Dean's but what good that was compared to his state right now? There was a high chance that he would be like that forever, cursed in an eternal sleep. Like Endymion. Like sleeping beauty. It would be nice if Dean could be woken up with a kiss like in the children's story.

Wait a minute. A kiss.

Sam blinked once, then, again twice, before he hurriedly shoveled down dirt into the still burning grave, dousing the flame. He covered the grave in record time before scooping up his shovel, salt container and fuel can and dumping them unceremoniously into the Impala's truck before quickly jumping behind the wheel and gunning it to the motel.

Sam burst through his motel room door leaving it open as he made a mad dash around the room, gathering his clothes and meager belongings. He'd got careless in his haste had forgotten to re-salt the door. Two demons came barreling through, catching Sam off guard and beating him near senseless. Sam had fought back but the strength of two demons plus the element of surprise clearly hadn't benefitted him. Soon, he was sent sprawling across the floor with one of the demons holding his wrists behind his back and yanking his hair up.

A black haired guy with pale skin entered Sam's blurry line of vision. His pit black eyes blinking mockingly at him as his lips sneered in disgust.

"Sam Winchester!" he tutted. "You're a pain in every demon's ass."

The demon stepped aside to grope around Sam's waist band and steal the demon killing knife from him.

"Thanks for keeping this warm for me, Sam."

"Ruby!" grunted Sam surprised.

The other demon that had held Sam on the floor yanked him up until he was kneeling, hands still bound, in front of Ruby, throat exposed.

Ruby was wearing a male meat-suit this time.

"Hello, Sam. Nice to see you again! Let's have a little talk, shall we!"

"What's with the change of clothes? Thought you were rotting in hell," Sam spat at Ruby. He was less enthused to see her, er… him, now. He knew what Ruby wanted but he didn't think he could do it. He refused to do it because that had been Dean's last warning to him; not to use his psychic ability anymore.

"Now, now, Sam. No need to get rude. Lilith sends a message." Ruby slipped close to whisper in his ear, "she wants you to surrender as her bitch or I have to kill you."

When he stepped back, Ruby's smirk looked disturbing. Sam gritted his teeth, glaring at the demon with loathing.

"She can kiss my ass!"

Ruby's smirk got dirtier as he purred, "As you wish."

Sam did not close his eyes when Ruby lifted up his knife. Instead, he looked down at him with contempt and hatred poured in abandon from his eyes. He was ready to die. He was flabbergasted when Ruby stabbed his knife through the other demon's neck behind Sam, nicking the right side of his neck as a result. Sam stood stunned as he looked down at the demon on the floor, dead. He turned questioning eyes towards Ruby.

"What? You think I'll really kill you?" retorted the demon with a lazy shrug. "Get your keys! We gotta go!"

Ruby left Sam a little bewildered alone in the room, gesturing to him to hurry up while he stood guard at the door. Sam hurriedly grabbed his bag and locked the door behind him. Hopefully, no one would find the body before he was at least a state away from there. They took the back stairs that led to an alley behind the motel, closer to where he'd parked the Impala. He glanced towards Ruby several times during their flight. It was odd to see 'her' in a male meat-suit now. Apparently, demons really were not picky when choosing their meat suit as he was almost certain that Ruby was a girl.

"Like what you see?"

Ruby's voice startled him. Sam caught him sending a playful smirk at him.

"I guess you're not picky in choosing who you wear."

"What? Don't you like it?" teased Ruby with a wink.

The look that Ruby had sent him chilled Sam's bones right down to its marrow. It was so lustful that he had to wonder if this really was Ruby. There certainly a blatant come on in that look that somehow rubbed Sam the wrong way. Not that the meat suit that Ruby had picked for his latest incursion top side was ugly. It wasn't. The guy had been handsome, average height, but still shorter than Sam by about five inches, dark hair, pale complexion, bright green eyes and thick red lips. If Sam had a tendency to swing that way he might have had to call him hot. Sure, he'd always been curious especially because a few of his close friends at college had been gay but Sam was always a shy kid. There was a reason why Dean always called him a prude.

Speaking of Dean…

"I guess I owe you one this time but let's just call it square and go our separate ways," Sam suggested, walking faster and passing him. The pull in his chest had become increasingly strong since Ruby had showed up.

"Wait! We have to stick together. Demons are looking for me right now. I'm a fugitive now, Sam."

"Good luck, then."

"Sam!" Ruby caught his arm and whirled him around, pushing his back to the hard cold concrete of the back alley. "Listen, I risked my neck to save you. The least you can do is say thank you and since now most demons are going to be gunning for my ass don't you think it's for our best interests to help each other?" proposed Ruby as he crowded Sam. "I can help you kill Lilith. I have few tricks up my sleeve but I need your psychic power."

Sam regarded him silently. It was the same thing that Ruby had said almost a year ago, that they could beat Lilith by using his powers. Sam felt a stir of anger swirling low down in the pit of his stomach. The smell of revenge was so sweet he could almost taste it but there was another feeling stirring inside him. A tug that dragged him, called to him, urged him to go somewhere, to do something. It was the feeling that he'd always felt ever since he'd cursed Dean to sleep and had put a stronger, more permanent mark on his soul.

He frowned at Ruby's determined upturned face and a question sprang to his mind.

"How did you get out?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"What d'you mean?" Ruby blinked, looking somewhat hesitant.

"You got caught red handed helping us. I don't think Lilith just let you go that easily," Sam stated calmly. He stared down at the shorter man with a calculating look. There was something that did not add up here.

"You think it was easy? Even for hell, it was nasty. I was tortured in every way for every second I spent there." Ruby stepped closer to Sam pinning him to the rough wall of the alley. "You can't imagine what I've been through, Sam, what I had to do to gain Lilith's trust again. Imagine my relief when she gave me one last chance to go top side. Just to kill you," said Ruby with unveiled annoyance in his eyes.

Sam regarded him coldly, calculating his words and the truth behind them, staring into Ruby's pale face, trying to tell if he was lying. "The question is why did she let you out at all?" Sam wondered loudly, enough to put a slight tick to Ruby's calm and controlled expression. "From what I know demons are not particularly forgiving creatures and I know for a fact that you're nothing special. She could've easily replaced you with stronger demon to do the job. Unless, there's something that you're not telling me?" He baited. There, he'd put his doubt in the open. It was a reckless move but if there was one thing that Dean had taught him it was 'If the enemy thinks you're being reckless then they'll probably lower their guard. We just have to know when to catch them at it'.

"I managed to gain your trust, didn't I? That's way farther than any other demons can hope to achieve. That's my leverage. She knows she can use me. She knows I can use your trust so I can kill you."

"But she also knows that you can betray her again. Why take chances? I wouldn't." Sam pushed Ruby off him and turned to leave. He'd only taken a few steps before Ruby told him the big news, well, shouted it at him actually.

"Dean's gone from hell!"

That stopped Sam in his tracks. It was the best thing he'd heard for a month. Since he'd thought the reversing spell had failed and he'd sunk into an aching depression he'd tried to drown in whiskey. It sounded like a dream that was too good to be true. Dean was gone from hell!

"Is that true?"

Sam whirled around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. Hope and elation leaked from through his tone and expression as his eyes zeroed in on Ruby. The demon shrugged his shoulders.

"You didn't know?" Now, it was the demon's turn to frown. "That's one of the reasons why Lilith is so pissed right now. She'll do everything to get Dean back. She sent all of her demons to hunt Dean down, even let me top side to get information from you. She thinks you probably had a hand in it."

"Whatever she thinks I did, this is the first I've heard," said Sam. He walked back to where Ruby stood near the wall. He stopped, towering over him, voice cold as ice when he demanded. "You have to tell me all about it!"

"No one is strong enough to spring a soul from hell, Sam. At least, no one that I know," Ruby said dispassionately as if he did not really care. Sam thought, perhaps, he really did not. Ruby never really cared about what happened to Dean.

"And she thinks I can?"

"I don't know. You tell me," said Ruby as he leaned back against the wall. His posture relaxed and at ease with both hands buried inside his jeans. Yet, there was challenge in his voice and he looked too smug for Sam's liking. Sam's suspicions escalated.

"What d'you get out of all this?"

"What-"

"Why d'you so desperately wanna know if I am the one who sprung Dean out of hell? If I did, what makes you think that I'd tell you? I wouldn't need you, anyway."

Ruby raised one eyebrow. "Does that mean you didn't?"

"Why d'you care?" Sam hissed at him.

Ruby's features turned cold and furious. He stepped closer and leaned his face near Sam's, as close as his height could afford him, he whispered. "If you did, then you're in more danger than he ever before because Lilith never loses a soul from hell. I can help-"

"Help me with what?!" snapped Sam aggressively. "You couldn't save Dean. All the shit you spewed at me last year was all bullshit. You never intended to save Dean because no one can but you strung me along, made me believe that you somehow have a wicked trick to help my brother. It was all just a trick wasn't it?" Sam stepped back two paces, regarding Ruby hardheartedly. There was uneasiness inside his heart that pulled him away from there. The pain that was not unlike the one he'd felt when he was doing the ritual for the reversing spell.

"I've never known the real reason why you help us. Why you went out of your way to gain my trust. In the end, I have no real use for you except for the demon slicing knife."

"I told you before. I can help you to bring down Lilith. I wanna be on your side-"

"Yeah, whenever I win this stupid war and become king of hell. I've heard." Sam nodded couple of times. "But, you know what? I don't care. I don't care about your war. I don't care about the world. If it gonna cost me my brother, then let it end. I've lost so much I feel numb. I don't wanna feel that pain again."

"But Sam…"

"Go away, Ruby!" Sam shouted, turning his back towards the demon as he left the alley.

Yet, Ruby was unrelenting. He was determined to follow Sam, to make him see things his way. Sam had to threaten him with exorcism before he fled, leaving his host to drop to the ground like a rag doll. After checking that the body still had a pulse, Sam quickly snatched Ruby's knife and left as the guy was starting to wake up.

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"Are you sure?" Bobby pressed him.

"Depends if you trust Ruby's words or not," answered Sam truthfully.

Bobby sent him a look before grunting and thumping down the living room into the kitchen to make a call. "Guess we'll just have to make sure for our self."

Bobby's network of hunters was impressive. He knew lots of hunters that Sam and Dean had never heard of. He also had connections with lots of other people who were not hunters but still involved in the hunting world. Specialists and the like. He had also sent word out there was a soul missing from hell. It was not until three days later, three too–fucking-long days according to Sam, that they got a word from Rufus Turner.

Rufus was a hunter, a damn good one, Bobby said but something had happened a few years back that had forced him to retire and live like a hermit. The man was even more paranoid than Bobby, Dean had said, but he was useful. Rufus had called Bobby, informing him, shouting at him more like, poor old man, that the demons that had broken into his house and jumped him were looking for one Dean Winchester. They'd thought that just because Dean had visited him once that he would automatically know where his soul had gone. Bobby trusted Rufus. Even when things seemed to be a bit on the cold side between them, Bobby trusted him and that was enough for Sam.

So, it was true then. Dean was gone from hell. Somehow, through some miracle, the spell worked. Sam just did not know where to look for Dean's soul now that he was out of hell. He did not know how to call to him let alone how to put him back in his body and wake him. Sometimes, Sam wondered if the Winchester life was cursed.

Then, Bobby got a good idea. He told Sam one morning that they could try the trick Sam did two years ago when Dean was laid up comatose on a hospital bed. They could try the Ouija board to see if Dean's soul was with them.

"You think Dean's here?" questioned Sam with a little too much hope in his voice. He skimmed the living room with a glance, hoping to get a glimpse or a feeling of Dean being near them.

"You boys don't have a permanent home. My best guess is, if Dean does roam the earth as a lost soul, he'll be here because we all know Dean will look for you."

"Yeah, good idea Bobby. So, when do we start?"

Sam left Bobby rummaging in his basement for an Ouija board, that he swore he'd put there many years ago. He went up to Dean's room, itching to test the theory that he'd had before he was rudely interrupted by Ruby and his demon lackey. It sounded silly the more he thought about it. A kiss. Could it be that simple? Standing tentatively next to his brother's unmoving body; Sam took a couple of deep breaths, strengthening his resolve. He slowly knelt on the floor, his body swaying back and forth in hesitation before he closed his eyes and dived in for the prize.

It was brief, but during those few seconds Sam learned and catalogued a couple of new facts about his brother. He learned that Dean's lips were soft and they tasted like cantaloupe. As much as Sam's curiosity tried to persuade him to linger a bit longer just to find out more about his brother's delectable lips, his conscience reared its head reminding him of the morality value of his actions. Sam jerked his head back, mortified but could not help himself licking his own lips savoring Dean's taste.

For a few tense moments, Sam stayed rooted to his spot. During those thrilling moments of hopeless anticipation, Dean lay still. No twitch, no tick, nothing. Sam visibly deflated as a lungful of breath that he had unconsciously held, escaped his down turned lips. Another hope dashed, Sam was back to square one.

An hour later, Bobby bounded up the stairs, as fast as his cracking old bones allowed him, lifting a battered and stained Ouija board up in victory. He quickly laid the board on the floor and ushered Sam into position. They spent the better part of two hours calling Dean's soul, just like Sam did two years ago… and failed spectacularly. Of course, Sam should have known that it would not be that easy. Even when Bobby suggested doing it outside the house just in case Dean's soul was banned from entering because of the protection sigils, Sam was still skeptical. He was right, the pointer did not move even a millimeter when they tried it out in the middle of the scrap yard.

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Sam sat gingerly on a high backed chair, fiddling with Dean's bull horned amulet as he shot an anxious look at Bobby. A pentagram tablecloth clad the round table between them. A beautiful woman with dark hair and tanned skin was crouching down in front of an open travel bag behind Sam's chair. After a few seconds rummaging inside the blue canvas bag, she stood back with an armload of big candles. Kicking the bag away with the heel of her boot, she sauntered to the table and proceeded to arrange the candle in the middle of the pentagram before taking a seat on one of the two empty chairs left beside Sam. She lit the candles in a sequence that followed the pattern of pentagram before taking a couple of deep breaths as she closed her eyes, touching her fingers on her temples.

"Right," said the woman after she emerged from her brief meditation. "Take each other's hands to form a circle. No matter what happens I implore you, Do. Not. Let go of the hands."

Sam looked at Bobby questioningly and saw as the older man shrugged before offering his hands on the table. Sam had no choice but to trust Bobby and grasped his right hand with his left.

As a last effort to find out if Dean's soul was really out of hell and roaming the earth, Bobby had invited a sassy psychic named Pamela to try to contact him. The best damn psychic in the state according to him. Pamela had informed Bobby that she had Ouija-ed her way into contact with dozens of spirits but none of them seemed to know for sure what had happened to Dean's soul. Through the spirit grapevines, there were rumors that his soul was yanked out of hell by some force but no one could confirm it since they'd never met his soul on earth. Thus, here they were now, gathering in Bobby's living room to perform a séance so Pamela could take a peek into the spirit world and perhaps, if they were lucky, draw Dean's lost soul to them. Sam refrained from expecting too much from this.

"May I borrow that, please," asked Pamela gesturing to the amulet. Sam reluctantly gave the pendant to her, slowly lowering it onto her outstretched open palm.

"I'll return it to you when it's over," she assured him as if sensing his hesitation. She smiled indulgently at him waiting until she got his nod of approval before looping the necklace around her wrist twice, putting the amulet right in the middle of her palm, holding it tight. Then she directed Sam to place his right hand on top of hers and held Bobby's left one.

Closing her eyes for the second time, the pretty psychic started chanting. Her tranquil voice filled the room creating a chilling atmosphere.

"I invoke, conjure and command you, the spirit of Dean Winchester to appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure and command you, the spirit of Dean Winchester to appear unto me before this circle. I invoke, conjure and command you, the spirit of Dean Winchester to appear unto me before this circle. I invoke … is that you, Dean?"

"Dean?!" gasped Sam snapping his eyes open looking frantically around the room.

"Someone's here but …"

Pamela kept her eyes closed as she struggled to grasp the new entity that had entered the room with her mind's eye.

"Is he here? I don't see him!" Sam complained with distress as he failed to see his brother.

"If you're Dean, I command you to show yourself!"

The light above the table started to flicker and wind suddenly blew around them, knocking Bobby's pile of books over the table and sending papers swirling madly in the air, buffeting around them.

"Dean! Are you here?!" shouted Sam anxiously. "Dean!"

"Relax Sam, I almost got it!"

"Why doesn't he show up?"

"I command you Dean Winchester to show yourself!"

"Where are you boy?" grunted Bobby.

"Dean!"

"Show yourself, now!"

The candles exploded and the room was plunged in sudden darkness and shards of glass fell to the floor.

Next time he'd become aware, Dean had found himself hovering in a void. He was numb and all around him was darkness. He could not even hear his own voice, could not see his own limbs. He thought this was Alistair's newest torture but nothing and no one came at him. Dean did not know how long he'd spent in the void until he started to forget things, starting with his name, his parents' names, his life but he tried hard to remember Sam. Until Sam had no meaning, just a three letter of word. Then, there was light coming from nowhere and the next second he was stood in the middle of a room behind a shaggy haired man who sat on a high backed chair in front of two other people sitting around a table.

He who remembered Sam looked around the room in wonderment. The abruptness of the change of scenery sent his spectral mind staggering. His senses were blasted by the onslaught of smells, sights and sounds after he'd spent for so long being numbed by the void. He drifted away from the room, ignoring the screaming woman at the table and went to explore the quieter parts of the house. There were many interesting things to look at. Warm feelings flooded his senses as he wandered through the other rooms looking at things and he felt a little bit overwhelmed by it. Something about this house and everything inside it felt familiar to him. His curiosity was peaked when he found a prone body on the bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms. He spent some time studying it, poking it with his transparent fingers before he realized that he could not touch it. He was disappointed and quickly grew bored and wandered back to stand behind the shaggy haired guy who was now joining the woman's shouting with his own distressed voice. Somehow, he'd been compelled to return to this room without meaning to. He paid them no mind until the woman in the room called the other guy 'Sam'.

He who remembered Sam perked up when he heard the word and he began to study the guy who was called Sam, intently. This guy had longish dark hair that was the same color as the sitting tool. He had a pointy nose and eye color that changed under the glow of fire. There was a dot of black beside his pointy nose. He also had two patches of hollowed skin on each side of his face that looked rather nice whenever he showed his teeth. He decided he liked this guy who was named Sam and curiously watched his every move. He seemed anxious and frantic right now.

A powerful force surged through he who remembered Sam. It felt like his very core was ripped apart and he was pulled in two different directions. The pain was so unbearable that he decided to let go of his awareness and stumbled back into the void.

"Everyone alright?" asked Bobby, putting a gas lamp on the table after retrieving it from under his desk.

"Yeah, nothing but a couple of cuts here and there," answered Pamela as she checked herself over. Sam rose from the table to get the med kit.

"What was that?" asked Sam curiously from the across the room where Bobby stored the med kit on two shelves of a cabinet.

"That was… weird, I must say," said Pamela slowly, as she appeared to collect her thoughts.

"Weird how?" asked Bobby, voicing Sam's thought.

"Well, there was something or rather someone hovering in the room…"

"Dean?" asked Sam hopefully.

"… nnn..not sure," answered Pamela carefully, a slight frown marred her pretty face. "It did not react when I called him by his name. Could have been Dean, could've been another spirit, but one thing's for sure he was drawn here. Then, when I forced him to show himself, there were two warring forces that worked against each other for a few seconds, centering on this spirit, before everything went dark." Pamela looked into each of their eyes in turn, solemnly said, "and then it was gone."

The séance with Pamela hadn't really shed much light on the mystery surrounding the disappearance of Dean's soul from hell, which Sam skeptically thought it might. They had run out of ways to summon Dean's soul or even just to make sure that Dean's soul was somewhere on earth but one thing was for sure, the demons were furious. Almost every day, Bobby received a call from hunters informing him that demons were recklessly possessing people looking for information about Dean's whereabouts. It was clear that Lilith was furious about losing Dean and that was enough to make Sam want to get away and stay somewhere secluded with Dean. At least, until he could find a way to reverse the curse and rouse Dean from his spell induced eternal slumber.


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