A/N: OMG! WRITER'S BLOCK SUCKS! I have never had writer's block so bad. It took me forever to write this chapter. I so need suggestions. I am running on empty. I did the best I could with what I could think of. This just means that I need some really cool ideas to spark my creativity again. The story is at stake. The story needs you. I have no idea what to write next. I know what I want to happen, but I can't get there. Please don't let the story end!

Chapter 11

I woke up in searing pain. It was so hot. I felt like I was being cooked alive. That ever so familiar feeling of burning flesh covered my body like a thick blanket. I had to completely my purpose. Six months had gone by and I had only moved twenty feet. I was lying on the same burning stones as always. I was almost there. I had just a few more feet to go before I could leave. The open flame on my neck burned hotter. I could see a blue tint, radiating around my head. I reached one bloody, burned hand forward and dug my fingernails into the flaming brimstone. I dragged my body across the burning ground, growing six inches closer to my goal.

"Almost there. Six more inches." I felt faint as I put my other hand out. Only my bone was left of my fingertips. The gas and hot air made me dizzy. "No, I can't pass out again. I am so close." My fingers touched the boiling ground and I closed my eyes.

I sat up straight and fell out of the bed. I looked around finding myself in Bobby's house. I didn't fall out of the bed; I had fallen off the couch in the den. No one was around. I looked at my hands. They seemed to be ok. I got up and ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I looked closely at my face. It looked ok too. I touched it, feeling its cool, smooth surface. I did the same with the rest of my body. Nothing was burning. I was fine for the first time in a long time.

I left the bathroom and went back into the den. They were all there; Bobby, Sam, Dean, and Cas. Sam was the first one to come up to me. He held me in his arms and I held him back.

"Well, look who decided to rejoin the living." Only one person could say that at a time like this, I thought. I pulled away and looked at Dean. He was the same as always; wearing a badass smile and holding a beer in his hands. I left Sam and went to Dean. Whether he wanted a hug or not, he was getting one. Six months in hell was rough.

He hugged me back, taking care not to spill his beer. I pulled back and looked at Cas. Anger stormed through me. I walked up to him and slapped him across the face. He recoiled and came back with his hand on his cheek.

"What was that?" I heard Sam say behind me. I didn't reply.

"What the hell Cas? You could have warned me that I was about to go and jump into hell. Why would you let me just walk into that without any kind of advice or training or something." I wanted to slap him again. The first time had felt good, in a way.

I looked at me as his hand slowly dropped. "And what, do you suppose, I such have said?"

"Oh, I don't know, something like 'Oh, by the way, you're about to go to hell. You might want to take some cold water.' Something like that would have been fine." I was steaming. If Cas claimed that he cared for me, why would he let me go and spend six months in hell trying to…? Wait. I forgot what I was trying to do. I had spent six months, crawling on the burning ground only to forget what I was doing? I turned away from Cas and sat on the couch.

"Jordan, are you ok? Maybe you should lie down. You've been dead for six days. This activity might be too much for you right now." Sam said making his way toward me. I pushed him off not really hearing what he said. I kept trying to remember what I was trying to do in hell.

"Six days? Dead?" Ok, so maybe I was listening. "What do you mean, six days? I was in hell for six months. No thanks to anyone in this room." I looked straight at Cas. He was looking at his shoes. I was feeling a little dizzy. I let Sam come over and lay me back down.

As my head hit the pillow, I jumped up again after feeling a sharp pain in the back of my head. I sat up with my hand holding my head. I could feel a burn scar on the back of my neck. So it's still there, huh? I looked at my pillow. It was shaped oddly. I pushed the pillow on the floor and remembered everything. Lying there, in the place of my pillow, was the reason for it all. My purpose for so long was right here. I picked up the Crown of Thorns and showed everyone in the room.

No one spoke. Bobby stared in amazement, while Dean and Sam looked confused.

Dean was finally the first one to speak. "That's why? That's why we let Jordan lie dead for six days?" I didn't want to correct him this time. Dean would explode if he knew that I burned for six months to get this.

"What does this mean now, Cas? I did what I was supposed to. Now what happens?" Everybody looked at Cas, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know."