This is my favourite of the hugs for it was the longest and most intense, plus we got to see the emotions of both brothers; but for

me their hugs are only the end product of what has gone before.

They are the physical manifestation of the closure of the suffering that brought the brothers to that point.

As a reviewer accurately observed yesterday, the hug seems to be reserved for when one or the other has died and is therefore

of great symbolic value to the two Winchesters.

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Chapter Three

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Lazarus Rising.

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The blood-red inferno pulsed all around him. The sounds and sights of Hell filled his ears and eyes, from the screeches of panic

emitted by the terrified new arrivals, to the low moans of those older souls who had acknowledged their fate; condemned to

indescribable suffering for the rest of eternity.

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Dean's soul had gone through all the stages of the vocal expressions of Hell's pain, his screams and moans usually interspaced

with his brother's name, as if calling for Sam would somehow alleviate his suffering; but Dean Winchester was never born to be a

victim or to invoke clemency and pity, so in the end he took on perhaps the only alternative role in Hell that was open to the souls,

that of torturer.

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He was getting ready to plunge his razor into the sinner on his rack, when his eyes suddenly found themselves contemplating the

utter blackness that now surrounded him.

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The bile rose in his throat.

Was this some new torment devised by Alastair? Had he been cast back from torturer to tortured soul once again?

Dean tried to move but there was no room.

Panic started to creep up on him.

Where was he?

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He ran his hands down his body, stopping only when he felt the small bump in the right-hand pocket of his jeans.

He feverishly pulled the object out, twirling it in his hand; it was a cigarette lighter, and with trembling fingers, he tried to click it.

At the third attempt a feeble flickering flame illuminated the darkness around him.

A box; a pine box. He was in a coffin!

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What Hellish trick was this?

Dean took a moment to quell his panic and pushed a hand against the lid. The wood was soft and yielding under his fingers.

It wouldn't take much to break through, but then the soil would fall in, suffocating him.

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Well he couldn't stay here, so he had to go with the only available alternative.

He broke though the lid using only the strength of his hands and then clawed his way to the surface.

Luckily enough, the grave was a shallow one.

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"Sammy," was his first thought. "Sammy has gotten me out of Hell. He didn't bury me deep on purpose. That's my boy!"

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The image of his little brother energized him and with one last effort he pulled himself out of the damp soil, his face encountering

the warm heat of the sun after months immersed in the depths of the Pit.

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He started walking, still not fully convinced that this wasn't some gruesome new Hell scenario, and he soon found himself in the

yard of a deserted Gas station.

He forced his way in easily, thirstily guzzling down some of the cool water he found in the fridge; the freshness of it manna to his

parched throat, after the scorching heat that had surrounded him for the past months, or was that years?

His sense of time and space was a little hazy as yet.

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Busty Asian Beauties! His lips formed their first heart-felt smile at the sight

Hmm, maybe he was out of Hell after all. He didn't think Alastair would have bothered to stock up on his favourite magazine!

He pocketed the money from the cash register and made his way to the nearby phone booth.

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"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy." was the fixed tam-tam in his head.

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He tried his brother's old cell number but it resulted cancelled. He fell back on calling Bobby, but the old hunter didn't believe that it

was him and so Dean did what he was best at; he improvised.

There wasn't a car that Dean Winchester couldn't hot-wire and before long he found himself on Bobby's door-step.

When the older hunter had finally been convinced of his identity by passing all of his tests, Dean lost no time in doing what

he had been yearning to do since finding himself in that coffin; getting to his little brother.

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There was nothing Dean didn't know about Sam, and in mere minutes he had soon traced him to a motel not far from the burial

ground. This bolstered Dean's conviction that Sam was behind his escape from Hell.

He must have stayed nearby to check that all had gone as it should.

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Well, now Dean would pay his little brother a surprise visit.

His heart swelled with longing and anticipation; he couldn't wait to see Sammy again.

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Feeling uncharacteristically hesitant as he and Bobby stood outside the Motel door; Dean knocked, and when it was opened by

a petite dark-haired woman, he was about to turn away, thinking he had mistaken the room number; but then his brother came

into view; Sam in the flesh and blood!

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He pushed his way uncaringly past the anonymous woman, eyes only for his little brother, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Perhaps if his concentration had not been wholly fixated on Sam, he would have noticed the curled up black smoke nestling inside

the pretty female shell.

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He saw the astonishment in Sam's eyes turn to suspicion and then fury; fury that some shape-shifter or demon would have dared

to taunt him with a facsimile of Dean's body, but Dean just waited there unwavering, drinking in the sight of his baby brother,

leaving it to Bobby to convince Sam of Dean's authenticity.

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They stood there staring, their eyes locked together, the joy of finding themselves truly one in front of the other, overwhelming;

the spell broken only by Dean's teasing words" I know, I look fantastic, huh!"

Like some well-oiled mechanism, the two brothers fell into each other's arms, drawn to one another by the same invisible force

that had decreed their conjoined existence both in body and soul.

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They held on tight, ever tighter until anything more would have decreed broken ribs; all the heartache and desperation of the past

months healed by their reciprocal touch. The Winchester brothers were reunited; all was well with the world.

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The demon, after offering some inconsequential remark, stole away. She was taken aback.

How had Dean Winchester gotten out of Hell?

This complicated her mission. It was a good job she had had these past months to work on the younger Winchester, for with the

distracting presence of the older brother, her job would be more complicated, but not impossible.

She smirked to herself as she exited the motel.

Let the Winchesters enjoy their pathetic little reunion, she Ruby, would see to it that it was short-lived.

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XXXX TBC XXXX