Chapter 9

Sam watched as he felt the adrenaline build stronger and stronger inside him, until he felt like he was about ready to burst. He couldn't seem to sit still, and got up to start pacing the room, directly in front of the TV. Back and forth, left to right, faster and faster as he scratched his head, rubbed his chin, clenched his fists, or shook his head. He was starting to drive Bobby crazy.

"Sam, you make a better door then a window. Can you take the pacing somewhere else, so I can see what the hell's going on?"

Temporarily oblivious to Bobby's presence, he paused, stared at him for a second, and tried sitting back down. Tried being the key word. He was planted firmly on the edge of the bed, but his legs were shaking hard and fast, almost making the whole room vibrate.

"Sorry Bobby, I'm just really hyped up, can't seem to calm myself down. I wish he'd get this over with, I think I'm gonna explode any second."

As Sam was speaking, his brother's frantic digging has stopped, and he paused, only momentarily, staring at the bottom of the hole he'd just dug. As Dean brushed away the dirt, and yanked open the lid, everything on the screen flashed into brilliant color. Gone was the black and white background, it replaced with real life vividness. Everything was vibrant now, his brother finally blending in with a color backdrop the way he should.

Then Sam felt more of Dean's emotions hit him like a ton of bricks falling from a high rise. Only this time, not the grief, fear, or loneliness, but relief, hope, and something else he'd never thought his brother would ever feel again. The tears started flowing once more, only not from sorrow. They poured down his face like a tidal wave, and Sam didn't really want them to stop.

"I see it, but I don't believe it," Bobby couldn't' help but say out loud.

The feelings Sam now wanted so eagerly to hold on to had all but disappeared as she started talking to his brother again. 'Damn if I'm not gonna hunt her down and kill her myself!' Sam couldn't help but think. The fear was back again, slowly building up with each passing moment, with each word she spoke. And he hated her, more than anything on the planet right now.

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

The sound of applause grabbed Dean's attention away from his father, now trying to pull himself from his prison of dirt. As he looked up, he saw her, perched atop the headstone, like a bird of prey ready to swoop down and devour it's next victim.

"Congratulations, Dean. You've finally revealed your prize. You are so clever, figuring out each one of those riddles with ease. I am truly impressed at all of your talents. I had fun, watching you every step of the way, you were extremely entertaining." She'd left her spot on the grave marker, slowly walking up to look Dean in the eyes, her face mere inches from his. Gliding a finger under his chin and softly caressing his face, she continued, "Oh, and don't worry about last night, in front of the fire. Trust me, nothing happened, although, it would have been fun to see just how far your talents extend."

"I knew it had to be you, Lily. That's what your calling yourself these days? New variation of an ancient evil, right? Trust me, you couldn't have handled me last night, or any other night. Now when do we get to check out of your little 'Hotel California'?"

"Aw, Dean, what's the rush? I mean, don't you have some catching up to do with your dear, old, dad there? It's been so long since you've seen each other. And what finally gave me away? I thought I really had you going, helping me, comforting me, protecting me, it was so touching, do Dean."

"What gave you away? When I mentioned Sam, that's what. I never once whispered Sam's name to you, but you didn't even flinch when I finally did. You even looked excited when I said it. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"Guess you got me. Can't say I didn't try."

"Try harder next time. Takes a lot to screw with a Winchester."

"Apparently not, since daddy is right there, looking like a deer in the headlights." She turned her head, addressing John this time. "John Winchester, how have you been enjoying your stay with us. On second thought, don't answer that."

With a wave of her hand, John's mouth suddenly sealed up tight, looking almost like he'd never had one. He grabbed at his face, desperately trying to speak, but no words could escape his sealed up lips. Dean stared in horror as his father scratched and clawed, each movement as unsuccessful as the last.

"Oh John, please stop that. It's somewhat disturbing. Just sit down, and listen, will you please. Dean and I have a few more things to hash out. We're not quite done yet."

John was forced down to the ground, seemingly unable to move. His eyes followed her every step, but the rest of him remained motionless.

"It seems we have a slight problem, Dean. I know I told you that if you won, you'd be rewarded handsomely, but I seem to have forgotten one, minor detail."

Staring at his father with a look of almost sheer horror, Dean tried to ignore his current thoughts. He had no intentions of letting her know what he felt at this particular moment. One way or another, he had to get then both out of there.

"What's that, that you're an evil, deceptive, lying piece of shit? That you and your kind would do anything to hurt my family? That you get your rocks off torturing us? Did I leave anything out?"

"Dean, why do you continue to hurt my feelings? I do have them, you know. And no, that's not the problem, anyway. I fully intended on giving your father back to you, should you have won. I do have that power, but unfortunately, I have no body to put him back into. It seems that you and Sam took care of that yourselves. It was a beautiful funeral pyre, by the way. I watched it with some others and a bag of popcorn. You two did such a beautiful job preparing the body, covering it in salt, wrapping it up nice and tight, and, burning his dead remains. You did it so well that nothing but some bone fragments and ashes were left. Do you still have them tucked away safe and secure in the trunk of your car, where even Sam doesn't know that their there. So, what's a girl to do? You didn't leave me much to work with. So, what do you think Dean? What do you think we can do to solve that?"

Dean couldn't stifle the overwhelming feeling of defeat that seemed to be suffocating him. He knew he wasn't getting out of here whole. The pieces of his soul that had been torn apart when his father died were seemingly right in front of him, but just didn't fit back together anymore, and it was killing him. His father was here because of him, he knew that for sure. He also knew he'd do anything to change it, if he could. Anything.

Like she sensed his thoughts, she continued her verbal barrage, each word hurting more with each breath he took. His stomach clenched tight as he saw she wasn't even close to being done yet.

"Dean, look at him. He made the ultimate sacrifice for you, giving up his own soul so you could live. Too bad he didn't know what he was taking you away from by forcing you to continue living your pathetic life. Your mother was waiting for you Dean, did you know that? Guess it's too late now though. So, here he is, suffering unimaginable tortures every day, every night, never ending."

Dean dropped to his knees, all his energy lost. Staring at his father, he couldn't stand hearing what she was spewing, knowing that every word she spoke was true, but not wanting to face it. When he saw the look in John's eyes, he was pretty much done in.

"No, he made that choice, and I had to live with it. There was nothing I could have done, I had no control over what he did. I was ready to go."

"True, but you will always know that he's the one that should be there with Sam and living his life, as meaningless as it was, and not you. His life wasn't meant to end the way it did. And your life was meant to end a long time ago. He should have never even been put in that situation in the first place. You shouldn't have even been alive for him to sell his soul for, or have you forgotten. At least he died willingly for you though, that's more then you can say for that other poor fellow, isn't it."

Dean knew he couldn't listen to anymore. The pain inside him was torturous. If this is what hell was like, and what his father went through every day, he knew he couldn't just leave him here. Like a child, he covered his ears as tears welled in his eyes. He laid down on the hard, cold ground, curling himself up into a ball, trying to make himself as small as possible. He didn't want the world to see him anymore.

"Please, stop. I'll do anything, just stop. I can't take it anymore."

"You'll do anything? What does that mean, you'll do anything, Dean?"

"Send him back, in my place."

"Are you saying you'd take your father's place here, that you're willing to sacrifice your own soul so he can live again?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any idea what you're agreeing to?"

"Yes. Let him live, I should be dead anyway. I don't deserve it. Keep me, send him back."

"Oh Dean, that's music to my ears. I don't know how to thank you."