Disclaimer: Don't own any of these guys.

A/N: Yes, you are not hallucinating. This is a new chapter. Finally back from one road trip, I have time to post this next chapter up before I go on my next trip. But don't worry that's just a week. So, I won't be updating this week, but this one is nice and long. So a little recap, a remanent of Alastair was driving Dean mad. Also, little demon!Dean rejoined Dean and Alastair was putting them back together. Dean was on the verge when Zacheriah came in and killed Alastair. Then the angel vanished Dean and Sam into their new 'lives' from "It's a Terrible Life" episode. So this picks up where that episode left off. Whooh, hope that makes sense.

Chapter 10: On the Merry-go-round again

"Alright Bobby, yeah well we're back now in one piece. Sorry to have worried you so-" Dean held the cell phone away from his ear as Bobby's voice boomed out a string of curses and exorcisms. Rolling his eyes, Dean fought back a grin, "Bobby. Go enjoy a beer or something."

Flipping the phone shut and tucking it into his worn brown jacket, his grin bloomed into a full smile. Shaking his head, Dean lifted the beer to his lips. Eyes closing, he relished in the burning as the amber liquid went down his throat. Three weeks without beer and going on a freakin diet made this meal epic. If he were anyone else, he would have thrown himself into a mental institution. Especially finding that he drove a Prius, Dean swore loudly in him mind. That Zachariah jerk had one sick humor. It was worse than Uriel's, God rest his backstabbing soul.

Reaching out, Dean picked up the double bacon cheeseburger dripping ketchup and barbeque sauce onto the white plate full of fries. Licking his lips, Dean closed his eyes in heavenly bliss as he took a large bite into the juicy, charbroiled burger.

"Mmmmm," Dean moaned deep in his throat. This had to be one the best burgers he had in forever. Swallowing, he eyed the heart attack on a bun, grinned darkly and took another large piece when a tall person slid into the booth across from him.

Sam pushed away his bangs in annoyance, scowling at the cob salad that lay untouched in front of him. Dressed back into his regular clothes, the younger brother reached out and took a long swig of his beer. "I can't believe it. I mean really, do they have no sense of privacy!"

Pushing the remnants of his bite to the side, Dean shrugged. Sam had been ranting about the incident since the moment they had rejoined in the parking lot outside of the company. Staring at each other, the brothers quickly jumped into the Impala that had miraculously appeared, and thankful undamaged otherwise Dean's wrath would have put God's to shame. Driving away from their residency of three weeks, Dean coughed lightly and explained the situation to Sam about Zacheriah and his whole twisted version of 'It's a Wonderful Life.' Since then the taller Winchester ranted and ranted and ranted…even when he came back from the bathroom. Between the gasps of air, Dean noticed that Sam looked a bit sick, must be a whiplash from last night's hunt. He had seen the remains of the security guard. Poor guy.

"What else is new?" muffled Dean through his food, "I gave up on personal space months ago. They ain't gonna change."

Sam shot Dean a dark look, "Dude, chew your food. You're not a freakin cow."

Dean grinned, humor shining in his eyes. Swallowing, he couldn't resist. "Mooo." Taking another drink, he wiped his mouth on his napkin. "But come on; tell me it wasn't that bad."

"Bad?" stressed Sam, his dark eyes widening in irritation, "I was living in a crap apartment between two noisy neighborhoods, worked in the Tech support in a cubical with never-ending hours and the pay was crap. I'm surprised I didn't lose my mind earlier." Stabbing his fork into his salad, Sam pointed it dangerously at Dean, "So sorry Mr. I got a great apartment and on the cooperate level office with great scenery and pay grade if I'm a bit cranky."

Dean shook his head, popping a French fry into his mouth. "Well I can't help it if the angels like me more. It must be my charming personality or maybe it's because I'm so awesome."

The light humor flooding off of Dean made Sam stare at his brother in disbelief. This wasn't the same broken Dean of three weeks ago. It was if somehow they had traveled back in time before the Deal and his other brother was back to being himself. Sighing, Sam leaned back, "I just don't get it. I mean this whole incident didn't do squat for me. Zacheriah seemed dead set on setting up an example for you and I was just a pawn, someone to help in hunting the ghost."

Sliding the fork into his mouth, Sam munched in brooding silence. Dean's eyes fell onto the table, finishing his burger in peace. It was a valid point. All the straight-in-your-face, non-sugar coated truth had been only for Dean's ears, to snap him out of his depression and get his game face on. And it had worked…just not the way the angel wanted it to.

Eyes raising themselves, Dean watched Sam eat methodically, his lower lip sticking out slightly in a pout. Smiling softly, Dean saw Sammy before him, pouting with those irresistible puppy-dog eyes about not getting cereal for dinner.

Breaking the silence, Dean leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Look, I got a theory."

Sam raised his own eyes, locking them with Dean's. "Besides the fact that I interrupted Zacheriah when he was done blinking you out of existence."

"Yeah well, small technicality." Tilting his head slightly, Dean pushed forward. "Listen, I don't know about you but I feel great. I mean for the first time since I came back I was able to get a full night's sleep. Not to mention all the guilt and pressure was gone. I was able to finally take in a deep breath of fresh air and enjoy life for once. No hunting, no nothing, just a taste of the normal."

Pausing Dean took in Sam's tightening face as his brother processed the confession. "And then when you came and we started hunting the ghost. It felt like the old days, man. You, me and some creature that needed to be salted and burned. The adrenaline rush, the joy of saving lives and working as a team again…"

Sam's eyes widened slightly.

"Sam, come on, don't tell that you didn't feel like we were back to being brothers. No secrets, no nothing. We were in-sync, did what Dad taught us without any angelic help or demon blood. We could read each other…" Trust each other, Dean wanted to add, but kept silent. "Zac showed me that yeah hunting is in my blood, but dude, he showed us what we really are: a team…brothers, no matter what happens to us."

Leaning back, Dean let those words settle in the air. Resuming eating his burger, Sam across from him began picking at his food. The dark haired hunter pondered over Dean's revelations. Dean was right. Despite being in a crappy job, he felt a bit glad for normalcy. It reminded him of when he was in college with Jess. And the hunt, it was refreshing. To go back and remember what it was like to kill something supernatural without the demon blood coursing through his veins. To feel human…

The rush was intoxicating and to fall in perfect timing with Dean was an ache he wished for. Halting in his pickings, Sam glanced up at his older brother. Dean was almost glowing with that cocky behavior of his as he practically inhaled the remaining fries. The middle-aged waitress with strands of black hair falling out her bun approached the table.

"Anything else?"

Dean flashed his most charming smirk, eyes gleaming with joy. "Got any pie?"

The waitress couldn't help but smile, making her look younger by tugging away her weariness. "Apple, blueberry, strawberry rhubarb and a special one huckleberry."

Dean bit the corner of his lips, "How about you chose?"

The lady let out a small laugh, "Huckleberry, then." Writing it down on the pad, she turned when Dean remarked, "You're a lifesaver sweetheart."

"Keep that up and you might end up going home with something special."

Hearing the squeaky shoes walk away, Sam kept his gaze on Dean's beaming face burning the image forever in his mind. If this was what Zacheriahintended, then maybe he could forgive the dick. The warmth of seeing his brother happy again faltered slightly as a dark thought crept across his mind. "The angels once again trumped you, Sammy. They did what you couldn't: first by saving your brother and now piecing him back together…better kick up your game, boy."

Sam shook his head as Dean flicked his gaze back.

"Dude I know I'm awesome, but stop staring."

Bursting out into laughter, Sam couldn't fight back the smile. "I swear Dean, you're hopeless."

Dean laughed right beside his brother. Later on that night, Dean left the diner with a box of a whole huckleberry pie, which was now becoming an addiction if he ever saw one. Finding a motel didn't take too long. Upon entering the room, Sam called the shower first.

"Don't trust you taking up all the hot water. If anything, that was one perk living alone."

Dean threw a pillow at the retreating back, "You're asking it for, Sammy."

Plopping down, Dean took in a deep breath. It might not have the clean smell of Pinesolof his old apartment but the muskiness, a scratchy comforter and a worn-out mattress embraced him with familiarity. This was his home. Relishing in the feeling, he began to doze off, pleasantly full with a burger, beer and pie. It was a perfect ending despite it beginning with a crappy awakening call. He was a bit peeved being played once again by an angel. Eyes sliding shut, an arctic wind ticked the back of his neck.

Rolling onto his side, Dean quickly turned the TV on grateful that some stupid cartoon show was on pushing away the horrors. He wasn't ready to face them yet. "Please", he whispered quietly, "let me enjoy this a bit longer."

The splash of something pulled Dean's attention away from the box. A flush of the toilet soon followed. Concern seeped into his voice as he remembered the slight pale complexion his brother had gained throughout the day. "Sam, you ok?"

"I'm fine. Must have been a bad cob salad," joked Sam from within. Standing in front of the mirror, he wiped his mouth clean. Try as he might he couldn't keep his eyes from gazing down at the cracked knuckle that bled slightly.

Blood.

Stomach turning, Sam felt a wave of nausea roll through him chased by a pull. Panting, his eyes fell into a daze. Three weeks since… A memory of drinking Ruby's intoxicating blood filled his mind. Three weeks since that rush… Breathing deeply, he pushed away the yearning. Dressing in clean cloths, he forced a strong face and stepped out into the room. "All yours."

Dean walked by, eying Sam with worry. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'll be good in the morning."

The green-eyed hunter nodded and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Staggering, Sam collapsed onto the bed his hands shaking slightly. He hadn't been this bad back at the restaurant. It was just started out as a stomachache, but seeing his blood spurn the withdrawal onwards.

Glancing around the room, he felt the walls slowly begin to lean inwards. Standing up, he slid on his shoes, grabbed his cell, jacket and keys. "Dean."

"Yeah?" yelled his brother's gruff voice.

"I'm going to the store to pick up supplies, want anything?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

Sam chuckled lightly, "Nope. Be back in a bit."

"Ok!"

Stepping out, Sam closed the door and made his way to the Impala. The cold fresh air pushed away the yearnings. He could handle this. If he had made it through three weeks without blood, then he could handle one night.

Revving up the car, he drove onto the small road making his way to the store. The slight vibration pulled his attention away from the pavement. Pulling out his cell, he clicked it on. "Sam."

"You idiot!"

Sam winced, "Hey Ruby."

"Don't 'Hey Ruby' me, Sam. Where were you? I was freakin worried something happened to you. Nothing but dead silence for three weeks!"

"It's ok, I was on some…angel business."

Ruby's annoyance and fear at the mention of the winged creatures echoed through the phone. "Oh wonderful. Just listen up, we don't have much time."

Sam's eyes narrowed, "Why?"

"Lilith is on the move."

The mention of the demonic girl that had sent his brother to Hell flipped a switch within Sam. Tucked away were the memories and joys of the day. All he could think of was burning that witch out of existence. His voice lowered into a growl. "Where?"

"Sam, you're not ready-"

"I'll be ready, I just need it Ruby."

Ruby sighed, "Where you at?"

"Near the outskirts of Danville, Illinois."

He heard a laugh, "Funny, I'm about two hours away."

How Ruby was so close didn't go by unnoticed. It had to be more than coincidence. Ruby had a way of showing up at the right time and it was both unnerving but welcoming to the younger Winchester.

"I'll meet you at the first rest stop outside of town and give you what you want," purred Ruby.

Sam closed his eyes, soaking her dark voice. Already he could feel the blood trickling down his throat bathing him in smoldering heat. The urge tugged deeper in his stomach. Peeking through narrowed eyes, he spotted the convenience store up ahead. He could be a good brother, relish in playful banter and turn into that parking lot. Make the happiness last one more night before reality set in.

Or…

Dean's grinning face as he flirted in the diner flashed in his mind. Lips thinning, Sam pressed harder on the pedal. He would do anything to keep Dean like that, just happy and no longer haunted. "I'll be there in fifteen."

Shutting off his phone, Sam zoomed by the store with thoughts no longer on oil, beer and chips. All that was before him was breaking Lilith's neck with the promises of drinking warm blood and Dean smirking at him.

------

Stepping out of the bathroom, Dean took in the empty room. Ruffling the towel over his hair, Dean couldn't help but note that he needed a haircut soon. Draping the towel over his bare shoulders, Dean walked over the plain wooden nightstand where his duffle bag laid. Doing a little shake to adjust his pants, Dean pulled out a new black tee-shirt.

"Hello, Dean."

Spinning, Dean's back slammed into the nightstand heart hammering against his ribcage. Standing in the shadow of the corner, the orange light streaming onto his face stood his blue-eyed angel. Those eyes were transfixed with peering out of the small opening which he created with his fingers. Eyes sliding over to Dean's flushed face; Castiel lowered his hand closing the small hole. "I am glad to see you are healthy once more."

Growling, Dean threw the towel straight into Castiel's face. Startled, the angel took a step backward catching the white towel while Dean grabbed a shirt from the duffle bag. Sliding it on, he glared darkly over his shoulder. "What the hell, Cas? You know, it's rude to walk in on someone, especially if one came from the shower."

"I am sorry." Folding the towel neatly, Castiel set the article on the bed. "But I am getting tired of being referred to Hell all the time." Stepping away from the window, he walked up to Dean fixing the hunter with an inquisitive stare. Soaking in green, the angel sought for the disease of Alastair but all that greeted him was calm seas.

A soft cough pulled his attention back to the owner. Blinking Castiel watched Dean squeeze by him to go to the fridge. "I met your boss."

Embarrassment brightened the pale face. The angel remembered the almost smug look on Zacheriah's face when he had given the order to resuming contact with the Winchesters. "I am sorry for anything he might have said. Zacheriah can be a bit…abrupt."

Opening the fridge, Dean scowled that there was no beer present. Sam must be still on the supply run. Glancing at the clock, he took the digital numbers not liking that it was well over half-an-hour. What was his brother doing? "That's putting it lightly." Peering over his shoulder, he was greeted by the infamous tilting of the head, blue eyes shining in curiosity. "Right." Slamming the fridge closed, he turned his full attention to the plastic bag containing the pie. "Wanna eat? Got some homemade huckleberry pie?"

"I am fine Dean."

Rolling his eyes at how hard it was to entertain an angel, Dean grabbed his coat and opened the door. "A walk then?" There was no room for rebuke. Big brother anxiety tugged at his soul and the closed quarters were not doing him any good.

Nodding, Castiel followed Dean outside taking in the deep breath that the hunter took in. This peaceful nature around the hunter almost seemed surreal. For every moment he knew the mortal, Castiel only felt suffering and pain. So sensing such a bright feeling radiating off of the man was out of place. "Dean."

Slowing his steps as they made their way towards a small park, Dean glanced swiftly to his companion. "Hm?"

Castiel stopped, tucking his hands into the coat pockets. Eying the gravel ground, he sought for the right words. "While you and Sam were living…normal lives, I came to a conclusion."

Turning to face the angel, Dean lifted his eyebrow. "I hope it wasn't too straining. Wouldn't want to worry an angel to death now?"

Shooting the hunter a scowled look, Castiel bit back a sigh. "I didn't tell the whole truth concerning Alastair's death."

The world around them halted, temperature dropping to arctic levels. Heart skipping a beat, Dean licked his dry lips. Coughing, he sputtered out, "W-what?" Did he hear right? Maybe Castiel had lost touch with reality while he was doing some Jedi-like meditation and got his words screwed up.

Turning to face the flickering lamp post, Castiel's eyes darkened as his voice drifted even softer. "I did not kill Alastair, Dean."

Dean's mind froze at the confession. Numbness began to bleed through the warmth that had enveloped him for weeks. Shock moved his lips forward, "T-then w-who?"

Dropping his head, the raven-haired angel seemed to shrink before Dean's very eyes. "Sam."

The single named could be barely heard but in Dean's mind it was as if a shotgun had been fired right next to him. His head buzzed as images of Sam killing Alastair burst to life. "H-how?"

"I don't know for sure, but-" Castiel pursed his lips slightly, "Sam was ripping Alastair apart, burning him out of existence."

Collapsing on a nearby bench, Dean ran shaking hands through his hair. "His powers?"

"Yes," joining the elder Winchester, Castiel gazed onto the secluded street. "I don't know how or when but his powers are growing stronger." Narrowing his eyes, a foreboding tone took over. "Your brother is falling fast, Dean and if he doesn't stop I don't think he can be saved."

The crushing weight of saving his brother and world sank back on his shoulders. Leaning back, Dean stared at his rough hands letting his weariness slid back into place. Now everything was back to normal. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"It was not my place."

"Your place?" snarled Dean, glaring daggers at the angel, "What do you mean, not 'your place'?"

Castiel met the heated glare with ice-cold detachment. "Because it was Sam's place to tell you what he has done. You are brothers and I am not about to destroy that, for it what makes you two strong."

"But why now?"

"Because I realized Sam will never tell you. That it was much my mistake in letting Sam use his powers in not destroying Alastair when I had the chance."

The guilt-ridden statement hung in the air between the two men as they returned their stares back to the street. Castiel clasped his hands together, agitated that the conversation had not gone the way he wanted it to. It was all these new emotions running through his veins that were making him irresponsible. How could humans endure this conflict on a regular basis?

Dean's rough voice blew softly on the wind, "Don't torture yourself, Cas. You did the best you could."

"You should heed your own advice," whispered back the angel.

Green eyes widened playfully at the other man hiding the pain caused by the remark. With a soft grin, he continued forward. "So what do we do now?"

"What you are already doing, try and save your brother."

"Well, it sounds like I'm doing a lousy job."

"No you are not. If any other angel was assigned to you, Sam would already be dead. But I know that he did such a deed to save you. His intentions are just, but his method is wrong."

Head spinning at the revelation, Dean shook his head. "Great the one thing I didn't want him to pick up from me he did."

Castiel shot Dean a perplexed look which Dean gazed back helplessly. "The whole sacrificing oneself gig, must run in the Winchester blood huh." A weak laugh broke through the hunter's lips as he remembered his mother sealing the deal to save his father's life.

"It is what makes you strong as well," pressed the angel, not catching the lame jab.

"Cas."

"Yes."

"Shut up."

A ghost of a smile passed over the angel's lips. "You're welcome." He finally understood the enigma of Dean Winchester. When the hunter would shot back a retort it meant that he finally got through the thick stubborn nature. In a flutter of wings, the angel left Dean alone on the bench.

With only his thoughts, Dean pushed himself off the bench and trudged back to the motel. With each step he lost more and more of himself into his mind. The soft scrap of rubber against pavement morphed into the rustle of grass. Stepping up pristine steps, Dean stopped in front of a blue door. Disappointment darkened the sky above. Sam, his little Sammy, had killed Alastair. His brother accomplished a feat that no other demon or Dean could ever dream off. Sam was becoming a creature that baffled his mind and it scared him more than death and Hell itself.

"It is what makes you strong." Castiel's words drifted by him.

"But not strong enough," muttered Dean. Reaching out he opened the door finding himself in a long hallway with a wooded forest for wallpaper. Glancing down, he took in the ink symbols that were permanent on his skin. If Sam wanted to go all demon, then he would just have to show him what it would turn him into. Despite being the brains of the outfit, Sam could be clueless about things that were staring him right in the face.

Walking down, wooden floor boards creaked under his boots. Spotting a slightly opened door, he pushed it open and stepped inside the living room. A small fire roared in the massive stone fireplace while the large bay windows overlooked green pastures. But the one thing he was focused on was the small figure sitting on a desk, bare feet swinging back and forth thumping softly against the drawers.

The small dirty-blond head tilted downwards till the chin touched the torn blue-shirt. Black eyes glared hatefully from behind the freckled cheeks. "I hate you."

Dean stood quietly in the room, letting the pure demonic rage wash over him.

"You left and made that angel destroy what we could have become."

Hopping off the desk, the demon marched over to his home taking in the expressionless face of his older self. "If you think Hell was bad-"

The swift slamming of the door silenced the child demon. Lowering his foot, Dean raised his hand and with a twitch of two fingers locked the door. Knowing he had the demon's full attention, Dean rolled up his sleeves revealing the intricate design painted on his skin.

"We need to talk, kiddo."

Black eyes soaked in the symbols, disbelief that they had remained intact freezing his rage. Slowly, his gaze moved upwards taking in the fading green eyes to gray staring back at him. "What do you say?" virbrated the gruff voice.

Tilting his head slightly, the demon frowned washing away the innocence of his appearance. "I still hate you."

"Me too."

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A/N: What did you really think I would pass up an oppertunity to make Dean a demon? Tsk. Well, see you guys sometime next week! Hopefully, *crossing fingers*