Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural, and the details of the spell are from Buffy. :)
Author's Notes: Second chapter, more to come soon. Enjoy and don't forget to review!
Chapter 2: Unpredictable
Sam hadn't seen Bobby since they'd buried Dean. Sam had refused—violently refused—to torch his corpse, and Bobby saw no point in resisting. Bobby thought it strange that Sam hadn't really cared where they buried Dean, but again, he hadn't argued. Dean was buried out in the woods. The ceremony had been less than, well…ceremonial. They had basically put him into a coffin and thrown him into the ground, Sam had barely even said a word.
"You're not going to say anything?" Bobby had asked.
"No," Sam responded. Bobby shook his head.
"You Winchesters are so friggin' unpredictable," he muttered. Sam wondered if Bobby was aware of just how friggin' unpredictable things were going to get.
Dean had been dead for a week, and Sam had spent that entire week doing research. He had barely slept, barely eaten, but it had paid off. Today was the day.
He had considered the consequences, obviously. Sam was a lot of things, but stupid was not generally one of them. Along with all his fruitless researching of how to get out of the deal for the past year, he had found one thing that separated Dean from other people revived by black magic.That girl Angela, the one who died in the car crash and came back a zombie, had died a normal death. When her friend Neil brought her back, she came back wrong. But Dean, Dean hadn't died a natural death. This wasn't like trying to bring back a car crash or gunshot victim. Dean was killed by mystical energy, which meant that Sam had a shot at bringing him back the way he was.
He reached into his bag, pulling out a large black urn and staring at it. The Urn of Osiris, the last known one of its kind. It had belonged to John; Sam had found it in his storage box in Buffalo. Sam smiled. Everything was perfectly in place, perfectly aligned. He was ready.
That night, Sam knelt in front of Dean's grave. It was a full moon, and the silver light eerily illuminated the ground. He lit a candle and placed it on top of the grave, then took out the Urn of Osiris, which was filled with the blood of a one-year-old fawn. Then he began to speak softly.
"Osiris, keeper of the gate, master of all fate, hear me." Dipping his finger into the blood, he marked his forehead and both cheeks with it, and continued. "Before time, and after. Before knowing and nothing." He poured the contents of the urn onto the earth that covered Dean's grave. "Accept my offering, know my prayer." A hidden force jerked him backwards, and long gashes appeared on the insides of both his arms. He would be tested, the spell had warned. Sam had known. He wasn't about to give up now. The pain was searing and blinding, but he continued, speaking much louder now. "Osiris! Here lies the warrior of the people. Let him cross over." He winced in pain as shapes appeared beneath his skin and wriggled around his body. The shapes moved around up his chest and then toward his neck, and blood continued to pour from both of his wrists. "LET HIM CROSS OVER!" he bellowed, collapsing onto the ground and gagging as the first of the shapes burst from his mouth in hissing triumph. It was a snake. It slithered away into the woods and was soon followed by two more.
Sam lay on the cold wet grass as spasms of pain wracked his body. He coughed up blood and gagged a few times, but as the worst of it subsided, he realized that nothing had happened. Dean wasn't anywhere to be seen. He waited for another hour, but there was nothing. The spell hadn't worked.
…It didn't work. Why didn't it work?" was the only question that ran through his mind as he lay in the motel bed staring up at the ceiling. Everything had been perfect. The fawn, the blood, the moon, the alignment of Mercury, the urn…The urn. Maybe the urn had malfunctioned. Damn it! He punched his pillow as hard as he could, fuming. There had to be another way to bring Dean back.
Dean Winchester awoke slowly and painfully. He could feel some sort of energy pouring over his entire body, fixing his skin, making it new again, giving life to his bones. Breath returned to his body in a sudden gasp, and he choked, his eyes darting around the coffin in fear.
Sam had gone over everything. He had thought of everything except the fact that maybe he was wrong, maybe the spell did work. And without his brother there to dig him out, Dean had to claw his way out of his own coffin.