Hey, I'm back with a brand-new chapter and you have to - once again - excuse the long wait. See, originally I was supposed to post this chapter before December! But I forgot and then everything was so hectic with Christmas and all that. I'm a real Christmas Nazi. Seriously. I spent hours in the mall last week searching for a present for my dog! Who, you know totally doesn't care about Christmas and stuff, the only thing he cares about is eating on the Christmas tree and food. Oh, well.

Anyway, enough of my rambling. Here's the fourth chapter, and I know this story is coming slow but my writing skills has been very rusty these past couple of months. I am out of inspiration all the time! I'm guessing this is my true first Writer's Block.

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The first condition of immortality is death. - Stanislaw J. Lec

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Dean was in shock. He was officially and mentally in shock. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected with bringing his baby brother back from the dead. Huh. Bringing his baby brother back from the dead. Sounded more and more messed-up the more he thought about it. Sure, deep inside of him, Dean had hoped that the resurrection spell would indeed work, but also a small part of him knew it just couldn't. It was simply against all laws of nature. Apparently destiny had other plans.

Dean removed his hands from his face and glanced over at his father who was sitting opposite against him staring into space, lost in his own thoughts. John Winchester looked like he had just aged ten years. Hell, who could blame him? It's not everyday you find out that your dead son isn't exactly dead. Oh, god. Something just struck Dean's mind. What if he had messed it all up? What if Sam had come back wrong? Sure, Dean and Neil had made sure that not only Sam's body was brought back, but this was deep shit they were dealing with. Dean can't get his peace of mind until he has spoken with Sam face-to-face.

Dean swallowed, trying to get the lump in his throat to disappear. God, this was too much. He couldn't just sit here. Dean sighed heavily and got up. He paced for a moment or two before leaning his head against the church-wall, letting the coldess of the marble cool his head down. It had been one hour now since Dean had seen Sam lying naked on the green grass outside the chapel. After just holding his fragile brother for a minute, panic had grippen Dean and he realized that Sam had lost conscious. Dean had no idea how he was going to explain the situation to his father and the old pastor, so he simply decided to not think about it and rushed his baby brother into the church where John and Jim were sitting, deeply engaged in a conversation. When John first saw his naked younger son in his oldest son's arms, Dean was a hundred percent sure he was going to pass out.

C'mon, this is John Winchester we're talking about. He doesn't just pass out. Not even if he sees his dead naked son.

Jim had checked Sam over and loudly concluded to the two worried hunters that Sam was in slight shock and was on the verge of hypothermia. Jim had disappeared with Sam into the chapel's own infirmary, leaving the two Winchesters alone.

John looked up at his oldest son. "I don't understand this."

"Well, that makes two of us," lied Dean pretty convincingly. Dean couldn't imagine the disappointment on his father's face if he found out how Sam really was alive and well again. A door creaked open, taking father and son out of their thoughts. Jim walked out, looking a little stressed and gently shut the door behind him.

"Sam?" Dean asked and turned to the old priest. John stood up expectably.

"He's stable," said Jim with a light sigh, and ran a hand through his greyish hair. "He has some light bruising on his back and around his neck." Dean winced and looked away, knowing exactly why Sam had neck bruises. "But I was able to prevent the hypothermia and he is pretty much a healthy young man."

Dean let out a breath, not realizing he had been holding it. John closed his eyes in relief and gently sat down on the chair again, however he was a long way from being able to relax. Too many questions were swimming inside the oldest hunter's head.

Jim turned to Dean and eyed him suspiciously. "Care to explain how Sam is a healthy young man?"

"Sorry, pastor," said Dean with a small snort. "I never really paid much attention in Health class."

"Dean," warned John, sensing the heavy sarcasm and snarkiness in his son's voice.

Dean growled in frustration and rubbed his eyebrow. "I told you, I was driving towards the chapel when I noticed someone lying on the grass in the middle of the cemetery!"

"So, you decided to simply go and check it out?" asked Jim with raised eyebrows.

"Well, if you saw a naked person lying in the middle of a cemetery in the dead night, right next to an open grave, wouldn't you think it's just a slight suspicious?" asked Dean sarcastically. "So, yes, I went to check it out and that's when I realized it was Sammy. The rest you know."

John stood up again and started to pace furiously. "Jim, explanation please?"

Jim shook his head. "This is simply just impossible. People just don't rise from the dead. Unless-"

"I wan't to see him," interrupted Dean. "Can I see him?" Dean turned to Jim, Jim opened his mouth to answer, but Dean didn't listen. "Great thanks," and with that the younger hunter left the room.

"Unless?" asked John, wanting to know what his old friend had meant.

"Unless someone brought Sam back," said Jim matter-of-factly. "With a resurrection spell."

"Wait, like necromancy?" asked John, his eyes wide in awe and fear.

"Yes," said Jim and ran a hand over his beard. "Of course, it's very rare. People doesn't just perform resurrection rituals anymore. It takes loads of dark magic to even start the ritual. No one is that desperate, that they're willing to mess with forces like that."

John frowned and narrowed his eyes. He was hoping Jim was right, cause there was a thought in the back of John Winchester's head that he didn't even wanna think about.

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Ouch... Ouch... Ouch!

Damn, that hurt! It literally felt like his heart was beating in his head. He swallowed a few times, trying to release the bitter taste in his mouth. It felt like he had been chewing on a pile of soil. He moaned in pain and started to rub his burning throat and neck. What could've done that? He didn't need a mirror to conclude that something pretty nasty had hurt his neck thid much.

The cord.

Poltergeist.

It all slowly came back to him. Sam remembered now. He had walked into that strange house opposite the motel and then he had been attacked. It all seemed blurry, but the details were clear. The door creaked open and the blurry face of his brother popped his head inside.

"Hey," said Dean softly and gently opened the door completely and stepped inside.

"Hey," came the weak response from Sam. He winced at the soreness and weakness in his own voice. It made him feel so vulnerable and small. Sam raised his eyebrows when he got a closer look at his older brother. He looked awful. Dean's eyes were bloodshot, he had black bags under his eyes and he looked incredibly pale. "You look terrible," Sam commented.

Dean gave Sam a weak smile and gently sat down on the chair next to the bed. "Yeah, well, that's what happens to a guy if he doesn't get a decent night's sleep for a month." Sam frowned. Dean's behaviour was weird. There was no other word to describe it. Sam couldn't help to feel uncomfortable at the way Dean was looking at Sam. All the love, the worry and... sorrow.

"Um, you never told me that," Sam rasped out and looked his brother in the eye. Dean narrowed his eyes and stared at Sam for a long time, looking confused. "What? What is it?" asked Sam and frowned deeper.

"Sam, what's the last thing you remember?" asked Dean, confused.

Sam swallowed and tried to clear his still blurry mind. "Uh, the cord. The poltergeist. It tried to strangle me, right?" Dean nodded slowly. "But, you saved me, right? I mean, or else I would be dead." There was a small silence and Dean looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown. "Dean? You okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost. Okay, maybe not the best reference in our line or work, but-"

"You're telling me that you don't remember where you've been, at all?" Dean interrupted with a pleading look.

"What do you mean 'been'?" asked Sam. Dean was acting weird, already said. But it wasn't like Dean. Millions of questions suddenly exploded in Sam's head out of nowhere. "Dean, how long have I been unconscious anyway? And where are we?" Sam looked around, recognizing some of the unusual paintings in the room. "Are we at Pastor Jim's?"

"Um, yeah," said Dean shocked.

"So, how long was I out?" repeated Sam.

Dean kept staring at Sam weirdly. "Um... 5 we-hours. 5 hours, yeah."

Sam nodded slowly. "Huh. Well, it could've been worse."

"No kidding."

"Man, it feels like someone just dropped a house on my neck," replied Sam and rubbed his sore throat.

Dean stood up abruptly. "Well, you should probably get some rest. You've had a rough... day. And you're probably in for a rough night with that sore throat of yours."

"But you just got here," said Sam in a disappointed voice. He didn't know why but it felt like he had loads of time to catch up with Dean. It felt like he hadn't been near Dean for weeks.

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." Dean walked over and opened the door. He smirked at his little brother. "Besides, someone has to explain to Dad that you're gonna be OK, or else the old man's probably gonna have a heart attack." Sam smiled a little to Dean, and he left the room.

"Whoa, wait, Dad?" asked Sam confusedly just as Dean shut the door.

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Dean shut the door behind him and leaned against it for support, praying that he wouldn't pass out right there on the spot. Dean pinched the bridge of nose and tried to absorb it all. Sam didn't remember anything. Nothing. Sam didn't have a clue that he had been dead.

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I know, it's short. But it's two days left for Christmas and it's basically a miracle that I've even had the time to post this chapter. The next chapter is definitely going to be longer and we'll have more of John and some evil forces. I might not be able to post it before New Year, but it'll definitely be up before I start school again, because when Christmas is over I'll have loads of time to write!

Anyway, you guys know the drill! Review! You know what they say, "a review is a fanficer's only payment". Is that right? I think it was like that. See ya guys!