Here's a longer chapter than suaul for this one, since I'm going to camp for a week. I hope ya'll like it! I can't wait to hear what you think. :) Enjoy! Thanks so much!

Chapter 4

It was cooler here than at Bobby's, though not by much. The sun still beat down on anyone and everyone without prejudice, and in the park situated in the center of the nice newer neighborhood there were mothers calling children to their sides for yet another layer of sunscreen. The smaller kids played on the playground and a pickup soccer game zigzagged across the immaculately kept bright green grass.

Dean sat on the hood of the Impala in a small parking lot across the road, out of the way, nursing a beer and watching the game with more interest than he would normally give to such things. Despite the fact that his jacket and outer shirt had long since been abandoned and dumped in the backseat, any breeze was welcome. He didn't know why he couldn't just find a decent bar—with air-conditioning.

He still wasn't quite sure what the hell he was doing here.

"Nice out here, isn't it?"

Dean answered before he realized he didn't know who he was talking to. "Well, it could be a little cooler, but—WHOA!" He'd turned a little, anticipating some stranger making small talk as they made their way back to one of the few cars sitting in the lot, but then again the voice was much too close for that. Instead, what he saw sent him skittering back, or trying to, and he slipped off the hood and stumbled to his feet.

"W-what? SAM?"

His brother grinned and leaned against the hood in his place. "Wish I could say 'in the flesh,' but this is more of a phone call."

Dean took a deep swig of his beer to give himself a moment to let the shock wear off, then set it on the hood, braced his hands on the car, and stared. "Okay…what?"

"Cas pulled a few strings, and…" He let a hand drop through the Impala's hood for a moment, to illustrate the fact that he was, in fact, not corporeal. "Well, it's better than nothing."

"So…it's you," he answered, for some reason unable to get his head around it. True, he had seen Sam as a ghost before. This was the Sam he'd seen then; the one that had told him he had to let go. It just wasn't something he'd ever expected to experience again.

"Yeah, Dean, it's me," Sam smiled.

"But what are you doing here?"

"What if I just wanted to see you?"

"Oh yeah. You pulled what must have been a million strings just to chat. Come on, Sam, I know you. There's a motive here."

His brother sighed. "Yeah. There's a motive. Do we have to get into it right off the bat?"

Dean stared for a moment more, then shrugged and slowly relaxed, easing back onto the hood and sitting there beside Sam. It took another moment, but then the smile came. "Yeah. Sorry." He shook his head incredulously and grinned. "Damn, is it good to see you, Sammy."

Sam nodded. "It's good to see you, too. Not that we can't see what's going on from up there, but it's good to actually be here, for a change."

"Right, I guess. So…" He trailed off, not sure what to say. What do you say to someone who's been dead for two years? He didn't even know what Sam was up to showing up like this. As amazingly wonderful as it was, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. "So how've you, you know, been? Up there, or whatever."

"Good. Fine. Great, actually," he answered, clearly just as uncomfortable. "You know, it's fine." He grinned then. "I'm not giving anything away, if that's what you're after."

"Aww, come on, you're no reaper or stuck-up angel. Can't you give me more of a straight answer?" Dean teased.

"Telling you it's good is more of a straight answer than they would give you."

He snapped his fingers in annoyance. "Crap. Good point."

Sam chuckled, and it was the best thing he'd heard in a long, long time; so familiar it was as if they'd never been apart. He found himself joining in, but when the laughter faded he remembered the reality of now.

"So if you can see things from up there, you know what happened," he said quietly.

"Yeah."

"Don't guess you have any clue when Lilith's gonna rear her butt-ugly head again, huh?"

"Sorry; can't help you there."

"Didn't think so."

Both of them lapsed into silence.

"I'm sorry," Dean said finally.

"I know you are, Dean, but it's not your fault. You did everything you could. If it hadn't been for Ruby—" He stopped and shook his head, disgusted. "I should have known. I never should have trusted her."

Dean's eyebrows went up. "You trusted her the first time around?"

"Not completely. Never. But close enough that it screwed up so much…god, it screwed up us. By the end we didn't trust each other anymore."

He grimaced. "God."

Sam looked at him with eyes that had seen days he was suddenly more than glad he'd missed. "In some ways I guess what happened was for the best—things ending up like this, I mean. At least this time we never had the chance to end up that way."

"Sammy…" He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to that. The idea itself hurt. But Sam recovered, and his expression cleared, and he moved on.

"Anyway, that's not what this is about. I want you to know you're not a failure just as much as Bobby does, but that's not why I'm here."

"Then what is it?"

"It's you, Dean."

Dean looked at him strangely. "What are you talking about?"

Sam shrugged and looked out at the park. "For starters, what are you doing here?"

"Excuse me?"

"Just answer the question."

But the truth was that he couldn't. "I…well, you know; Bobby told me to do something not at all related to demons, or ghosts, or books, or him. So here I am."

"Yeah, but the Dean I know would have made a beeline for the nearest bar and picked up a girl or two." Sam nodded to the kids in the field across the road. "This is a far cry from a strip joint."

"And your point is?"

Sam sighed. "The point, Dean, is that I think you want more than this—more than a life on the road, more than hunting. I also think you're too stubborn to admit that to yourself."

Dean huffed. "So what, going to heaven makes you Doctor Phil?"

"No, but being your brother means I know you, and I want you to be happy."

And after everything that had happened, even though he was dead Sam still cared. Dean wondered why he couldn't accept that.

"I don't deserve more than this, Sam. I couldn't even take care of you; how the hell am I ever supposed to think I could take care of a family? You're just one more example of why hunters shouldn't have families! And don't tell me that's not what you're talking about."

"Dean…"

"No, Sammy. You know the statistics. Jo's family, our family…it never ends well. Why do you care, anyway? You're up there with Mom and Dad and Jess, and I'll be there eventually, I guess, so what does it matter what I do while I'm still here?"

Sam pushed off the car and stood. "Just because we're all going to be together again, and just because you know things are going to be better then doesn't mean you stood stop trying to make things better for yourself here. You've still got a whole lifetime ahead of you."

"If something doesn't kill me first," Dean grunted.

"Don't talk like that."

But suddenly the idea of spending fifty or sixty more years in the world was too oppressing to take. Because…Bobby had been right. Once Lilith was dead, he didn't know what he was here for anymore. "Why not?" he muttered. "The idea's kind of inviting."

A jolt pulled him off the hood of the car, and then Sam's hands were clenched his t-shirt and shoving him back into the side of the Impala. "Have you lost your mind!"

Dean coughed and squinted. "Well, bein' up there sure didn't make your ghost skills rusty."

"I never want to hear that again, Dean."

"Hear what?"

"You know what I'm talking about!"

"Sam, come on—"

"No, you come on. You're my brother, Dean, but as much as I care about you and as much as I miss you I do not want to see you up there any time soon. Is there any way I can make that more clear to you?"

"You could let go of me."

Sam released him and stepped back, and Dean straightened and looked at him for a long moment. "Right, so…ghost skills still up to par."

"Apparently."

"Good." He hugged him before he could really think it through, but once he had his brother in his arms he didn't want to let go. "Hey, other people can see you right now, right? I don't wanna look like I'm hugging air over here."

"I think you're safe," Sam chuckled, returning the embrace tightly.

When Dean finally made himself let go he went back around the front of the Impala and sat again, silently. Sam sat beside him, and was just as quiet—for a while.

"Dean…heaven is wonderful. It really is. There's no way to not like it, no way to not like being there. That's why it's heaven. I have Jessica there, and maybe it's not…you know…like a human relationship, if you know what I mean, but that doesn't matter there. It's perfect the way it is."

He paused for a moment and took a breath. "Maybe it sounds stupid just saying it like this, but I want you to have that someday. I want you to have the chance to find someone to spend eternity with—someone besides Mom and Dad and me."

Dean groaned. "Come on, really? You think I need a woman to 'complete me' or something?"

"No, not necessarily. That's up to you. I just said I wanted you to have the chance to find someone. You won't have the chance if you're dead."

"Can't meet new people in heaven?" he snorted.

"Sure you can; but not in the interest of starting anything beyond new friendships. There would be no point. There's no getting married up there, no having children. We don't have our human bodies anymore. We don't need those things. Like I said, Dean, it's different there. That's why I want you to stay here. I want you to have the option of having a family, if you want to someday, but I'm not saying you should or you have to."

Sam looked at him searchingly. "I just don't want you to give up everything now and realize later that you missed some things you wanted."

Dean sighed heavily. He wanted to be himself—wanted to protest again because that was just what he did—but he couldn't argue the point. It was a good point, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

Still, it took him a while to come up with something to say after that.

"Okay…say I paid attention at all to what you're saying…what does that mean? What the hell am I supposed to do about it? Lilith's still alive; I can't just—"

"Who says you can't? We don't know how long it'll take her to climb back out. So do something for yourself. Start here, if you don't know where else to start."

"But this is just—"

"The development where Lisa and Ben live."

Dean winced. "Oh you caught that, huh?"

"I was here the first time. I met them."

"I guess you did…" He fell silent, and he could feel Sam's eyes boring into him.

"I like her, and Ben's a great kid. Even if nothing comes of it you could at least drop by why you're here, instead of skulking at the edge of the park," Sam smirked.

"I am not skulking. I'm relaxing."

"At least promise you'll let them know you're here before you run off again."

Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Who said I was just gonna run off again? Maybe I was already thinking about, you know, going over there."

Sam's eyebrows went up suspiciously. "Uh huh."

"Well, I was entertaining the notion…"

"Well that's good if it's true. You should."

"All right, all right…"

"Good," he smiled. Then he stood again.

Dean blinked, "What are you doing?"

Sam's expression was suddenly pained again. "I have to go, Dean."

The pang in his chest nearly knocked him off the hood. As it was, he barely made it back to his own feet. "You…but can't you, like, stick around for a little while or something?"

"It doesn't work like that."

"Then what was the point of this!"

He sighed. "I've said what I needed to say. I wish I could stay for a while, but I can't. I'm gone, and this doesn't change that. This…is probably a one-time thing. Cas and I had to do a lot of sneaking around to get me here for this long. You said yourself that Lilith is still alive. Maybe it's on hold for now, but the war isn't over. This is dangerous."

Dean's mouth fell open and stayed that way for much longer than he would have liked. "Why the hell didn't you say so?"

"It would have kinda ruined the mood," Sam answered sheepishly.

He growled in frustration, but realized there was no point in getting angry. Of course Sam couldn't stay. He was right. That didn't mean Dean liked it, but he was right.

"Sorry…"

Sam smiled apologetically. "It's okay. I'm sorry, too."

Dean grimaced. "So what…back to 'see ya on the other side' then?"

"Afraid so."

"You're killin' me with these stupid goodbyes, you know that?" he said thickly.

"Should I not have come?"

"No," he answered immediately. "No…I'm still glad you could."

"Me too."

This time Sam initiated the embrace, but Dean clung just as tightly for the moment they had, before his brother let go again.

He didn't want to say goodbye again.

"You don't have to say it." There Sam went, reading his thoughts just like the old days—not that he'd ever admitted then that his little brother was right most of the time.

This time Dean smiled painfully and nodded. He felt Sam's hand on his shoulder, and then nothing. When he blinked, Sam was gone.

The trip back should have been as instantaneous as the trip to Earth. When Dean and the parking lot and the Impala disappeared, Sam expected the familiar white light and Jessica's arms around his neck.

Instead, he suddenly realized that his eyes were closed. When he opened them, there was nothing there. Only darkness.

What…this isn't…

"Cas!"

"He can't hear you here," said an indistinct voice from the darkness.

"Where the hell is here?" he demanded. Sam tried to move, but nothing happened. He couldn't really feel anything.

Then the voice was close, in his ear, and it was laughing.

"It's certainly not heaven. It's not hell, either. I suppose you could say it's in-between…but it will do."

Then Sam could feel again.

He felt pain.