Yes, this fic has been updated! It's been far too long haha, let's see how Sammy's doing, shall we? ;) Hope you like it!

Unbetad, so sorry for any errors.

Dean was surprised to see how little his extraordinary good mood had changed by Sunday morning. He woke up still in the afterglow of what last night had offered him and wasn't even all too shocked at how unbelievably girly that sounded.

He and Lisa got up together and decided to have a large breakfast before it was time for her to go pick up Ben. They very much enjoyed themselves in the kitchen, joking around and having more fun than the hunter could remember having in a long time.

"I do love a man who can cook," Lisa said teasingly when Dean served her his usual pan of scrambled eggs. He couldn't help but chuckle and leaned in to give her a short kiss on the lips.

During the meal Lisa started bringing up the topic of Ben's birthday that was now less than two weeks away and Dean realized that it was an event he was particularly excited for. Not only would it again be a day that underlined the increasing normalcy of his life, but it also brought about the memory of how he had first met the boy a few years ago. Thinking about the small kid that had been so excited over AC/DC and realizing how well he was starting to know Ben now… it made him feel incredibly warm inside.

After they had finished washing the dishes together, Lisa got ready to leave. She was planning on picking up Ben from his party and going shopping with him right after, so Dean would have the house to himself for a few hours.

When she had finally closed the door behind her, the hunter opened the door to the fridge and glanced quickly at his case of beer, only to decidedly pull out a bottle of coke instead. Wow, this was all having such a great influence on him! He hardly recognized himself.

He paced around the house feeling fairly good about himself and wondered how he could spend his time until Lisa got back. There was always housework that needed to be done, stuff out in the shed that needed repairing. The mechanics job from one of her neighbors, which he had been working for a while now meant that he had less time around the house to be helpful. But if he was completely honest with himself, he felt sort of lazy, which was a totally foreign experience to him.

He had just started to make himself comfortable in one of the armchairs in the living room when he heard a knock on the front door. Maybe he had thought himself off the hook too soon, cause Sid sometimes decided to stop by at weekends, feeling like he needed to help Dean integrate himself into the community.

Sighing in defeat, the hunter put down his glass and got back to his feet to head over to the door. He quickly pulled it open and froze on the spot when he gazed upon who was waiting on the other side.

…

What?

No.

This… huh?

Green eyes wide in shock and every part of his body completely paralyzed, Dean stared ahead at the tall figure of his little brother. His clothes were slightly muddy and his long hair was incredibly mussed up and untidy, but beyond that it was just… Sam. Sam looking stunned, as if he hadn't been sure Dean would really be here, and somewhat wary, unsure of what reaction to expect.

"Hey, Dean," he said quietly.

No. No, this wasn't happening. He was seeing stuff or dreaming. He must've thought himself happy too soon, he was probably still in bed and having a new type of nightmare. It couldn't be real, but it felt so real and what the hell was happening? This wasn't Sammy, it couldn't be.

Dean realized only now that his unbreakable state of shock had prevented the instinctive hunter's reaction he should've displayed right away. He should've pulled back instantly, drawn his gun, splashed some holy water, anything. Even now he was supposed to do it. Why the hell wasn't he doing it? And why wasn't Sam – no, it couldn't be Sam – why wasn't this impostor attacking him?

"This is… No, you"- Dean continuously cut himself off while trying to say something. He hadn't even realized that he was slowly backing away until the Sammy-impostor lifted both of his hands, as if to show that he meant now harm.

"Dean, wait, it's ok," he said soothingly. "It's me!"

As if the outrageous lie had suddenly managed to snap him out of his trance-like state of shock, Dean immediately jolted back and reached behind himself to pull out his gun, only to come up empty. Damn his suburbanly weakening instincts! He had been so cheerfully distracted when getting up that he hadn't even thought of bringing his gun down with him.

Instead he jumped over to a nearby shelf and reached for a bottle of holy water he still knew he had placed there, just in case.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Sam yelled when Dean opened the bottle and splashed a big amount of water at him. "Whoa, whoa, man! Not a demon!"

Dean stared at the figure of his little brother, once again shocked at the fact that this had triggered no reaction. Dammit, if he was a shifter then he had absolutely no defense, he didn't even know if any of Lisa's knives were silver.

"Hold on, Dean, please!" Sam begged him. "It's me, I swear, I can prove it!" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver blade. "Here, let me save you the trouble…" he murmured while rolling up his sleeve and cutting himself across the forearm, revealing his crimson red blood. "See? All me."

The half empty bottle of holy water still clutched firmly in his grip, Dean stood there staring at the man so perfectly resembling his brother, mouth and eyes ripped wide open. It seemed to him like the rational part of his brain had already realized what the rest of him was still trying to process. No signs for anything supernatural… ergo… this had to be Sam.

It couldn't be Sam. No, Sammy was down in the cage, tormented and suffering and locked away forever. For a horrible fraction of a second Dean considered that this could be Lucifer and an icy chill ran down his back at the thought of it. But that didn't make any sense whatsoever, Lucifer would have no reason to try and convince him that he was Sam. He'd have crushed him like a bug before he had even finished opening the door.

Slowly a painful yet strangely wonderful prickling sensation started to spread throughout the hunter's whole body and he felt the shock slowly ease away from his muscles. Instead he felt numb and detached and incredibly unreal, because this wasn't happening, it couldn't. And yet Sam was there, right in front of him, waiting patiently for him to decide on a reaction.

After what seemed like an eternity, Dean slowly lowered the bottle.

"Sammy?" he whispered disbelievingly, eyes still wide-open from surprise and awe.

Sam showed a small smile. "Yeah," he responded. "It's me."

He hadn't even noticed himself moving, but only a second later Dean had closed the distance between himself and his very real baby brother and pulled him into his arms. The prickling sensation exploded tenfold over his body and his grip grew tighter and tighter around Sam, as if he was afraid that at any moment he could cease to be here.

He couldn't believe this was real. Sammy was here, he was really here.

"Dean…" his brother's voice sounded surprisingly strained. "Dean – can't – breathe…"

It took Dean a few moments before he realized what his brother was saying, for he was still too amazed at the sensation of feeling him so near again. But then his brain finally registered the meaning of the cut off words and he quickly pulled back. "Oh," he said confusedly while withdrawing his arms. "Sorry…"

Sam smirked in response and gave a slight shake of his head to indicate that it was ok.

"I…" Dean murmured, still staring at his brother's face in awe. "I can't believe it, man, you're – you're really here. How…?"

"I know," Sam chuckled in agreement. "It's crazy, right?"

"Yeah." Dean finally allowed himself to smile. The initial shock and disbelief were slowly but surely transforming into a feeling of marvelous joy and happiness. How he had felt last night with Lisa was nothing compared to this, nothing.

But as everything else that had been a part of his life, the ever-present shadow of doubt did not remain hidden even from this situation. He felt more real and alive and whole than he had since the day his brother had taken the plunge, yet his confused mind was already scrambling through all the open questions.

"But… wait a minute," Dean murmured, still unable to remove his wide-open eyes from his brother's face. "You – you… you were" – his mind seemed to replay the gut-wrenching scene of Sammy's leap into the cage a hundred times before his inner eye – "you were gone, man. I mean, that…" He shook his head with a sigh of disbelief. "That was it. How the hell are you"-

Sam interrupted him with a slight huff. "I have no idea," he said honestly. "I don't know."

Dean scowled at him. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I mean, no idea," Sam repeated patiently. "I-I'm just… back."

Dean's scowl grew even deeper at that, for as thrilled as he was at the fact that his brother was standing before him, mysterious resurrections seldom tended to be a good thing. "Well, was it God…?" he asked uncertainly. "Or –or " – his next thought made him hesitate slightly – "or Cas?" Even though he found it kind of hard to believe that Cas would've done something to raise Sam without telling him about it, he had to consider all possible options. "I mean, does Cas know anything about it?"

"You tell me," Sam shrugged. "I called him a few times on my way over here, but… Cas isn't answering my prayers. I don't even know where he is."

"Well, nobody does, really," Dean felt compelled to explain. "He's on the run, you know, he pretty much had to ditch everything…"

This seemed to surprise Sam. "Really?" he wanted to know, displaying a highly curious expression. "Why? What happened this time?"

This time. There was something so distant and indifferent about his brother's choice of words that it added even more to Dean's confusion with the whole situation. But hell, what did he know, the guy had just come back from the cage! One couldn't go through something like that and come back the same way; in fact he seemed remarkably well under the circumstances.

"Eh, pissed off another archangel," Dean waved the question loosely aside with his hand. "First things first, dude, what happened? I mean, how did you…?"

"I don't know, it was weird, man," Sam responded, brow furrowing pensively. "I mean, I was… down there… and then, next minute, it's raining and I'm lying in that field, alone."

"So what, you… you just zapped back to the field straight from the cage?" Dean asked with an equal amount of disbelief. "How the hell does that work?"

"I-I guess so," he shrugged helplessly. "Dean, if I had any idea, I'd tell you."

Dean nodded, trying to calm himself down so he wouldn't already start ranting at his newly resurrected brother. Now that his brain was starting to act more rational again, he found himself worrying more and more about the damage that his brother was so obviously hiding from him. He remembered only too well that when he had returned from hell himself, he had been determined to pretend like he hadn't just spent thirty years being ripped apart and another ten ripping other people apart in his mind, to himself as well as everybody else. He absolutely didn't want Sammy to do the same, he wanted him to talk to him and be helpful in any way he could. But from the relaxed and casual behavior that his brother was displaying now, there was just no way to tell what sorts of horrible things had happened to him.

"Are…" he started hesitantly. Damn, he had no idea what to say. "Sammy, are you ok?"

Sam sighed and to Dean's surprise also added a slight shrug. "Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"Do you remember it?" The question was out of Dean's mouth before he had even really considered it and he immediately felt bad for his blunt approach on the subject. Even if he wanted to be able to help Sam, he knew that this was probably the last thing his brother wanted to think about.

"What?" Sam asked, though Dean wasn't sure if he really hadn't understood the question or if he was just buying time.

"The Cage," Dean explained quietly, paying close attention to his brother's face.

The reaction wasn't that big however. Sam hesitated for a few moments and looked down at the ground, before meeting his brother's gaze calmly. "Yeah."

Dean waited for him to elaborate further, but nothing came. After remaining silent for a while, he softly tried to nudge him. "You want to"-

"No," Sam immediately cut him off.

Dean nodded in understanding, realizing that this was not the best moment to make his brother talk. "Well, if anyone can relate…" he reminded him encouragingly.

"I know," Sam responded calmly. "But, Dean, I don't want to talk about it. I mean, I'm back, I'm alive… I get to see you again. Why exactly would I wanna think about hell?"

"Yeah," Dean murmured. "Yeah, I get it. I… you know, I just thought I could help…" He shook his head slightly and looked at his brother, still awe-stricken. Even after this whole conversation he could hardly believe that this was real, that Sam was really here. "I just… wow," he chuckled, trying hard not to let his emotions get the best of him. "I can't believe you're here!"

"I know," Sam smiled as well. "Tell me about it."

The two of them just stood there for a moment, looking at each other. Dean only now noticed that they were still standing in the hallway with the door wide-open behind Sam, for neither of them had thought of closing it. When he had passed his brother to finally shut the door, he felt a bubble of cheerful laughter rise in his throat and he was surprised at how amazingly authentic it seemed.

He slapped Sammy on the back while enjoying what it felt like to genuinely laugh and continued grinning at him. "I could use a drink!" he chuckled. "What do ya say?"

"You and me both," Sam responded with a chuckle of his own.

After Dean had gotten them both a beer from the refrigerator, Sam settled in at Lisa's kitchen table and looked expectantly at his brother.

"So, do you have any idea what could've brought me back?" he wanted to know. "I'd go looking myself, but… you know, kinda hard to look for what resurrected you when you got no leads."

Dean frowned disapprovingly. "Sammy, what the hell are you talking about? You're not going looking by yourself, dude!" he demanded in a slightly scolding tone. "That's what I'm here for, remember?"

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, 'course, Dean," he agreed. "What's been going on up here? Is there anything here that, you know, could be connected to this?"

Dean sighed while taking a big mouthful of his beer. "It's been fucking crazy, man!" he responded after swallowing. "You remember how you and me thought we'd be through with angels after shutting the cage?" Sam nodded. "Well, dream on. Dicks are more annoying than ever, keep wanting to get their freak-show back on the road."

"So, what?" Sam asked, frowning slightly. "They're trying to go through with the apocalypse anyway?"

Dean gave a humorless laugh in response, half of his bottle already downed. "Yep… Cas and a few of his buddies wanna stop it from happening, but yeah, you can imagine how that's going. I'd say right about now he's heaven's most wanted, and it ain't pretty Bon-Jovi style!" He hesitated for a moment, thinking about the angel. "We should call him," he decided. "If this has anything to do with those frickin' angels, I bet you he'd know! We need to talk to him."

"Well, that's great, Dean," Sam huffed in fake amusement. "Except I already called him. The son of a bitch isn't answering."

Dean sighed and ignored his brother's doubts, stubbornly sticking to his decision. He braced his hands on the counter and lowered his head, closing his eyes as he started his sort-of-praying. "Cas," he said. "You there?" He pretended not to hear his brother's amused snickering. "Hey, listen, I know you're probably busy with running your ass away from Raphael and all, but… if you got a second – Sammy's back, man!"

The words burst out of him with so much hope and he turned away, as if he was trying to make the prayer more private between the angel and himself even if Sam could still hear him perfectly. "I don't know how, but… he's here, sprung free from the cage and everything. Maybe you already know this, but… yeah, we're kinda freaked" – he chuckled darkly, despite his excitement – "we have no idea what's going on, so, I don't know, maybe you could give us some answers?"

He opened his eyes to look around the kitchen, but it was still only Sam and him. "You know, or just suggestions?" he tried again, not closing his eyes but looking upward in a skyward direction. "Just pop in for a sec, please. We could really use your help."

Sam expectantly looked back and forth between his brother and the empty space next to the table, but there was no flutter of wings, no sudden appearance of a beige trench coat. Feeling slightly frustrated at his friend, Dean spoke again. "Cas, please!" he said loudly with a mixture between anger and disappointment.

But the angel didn't show.

"Well, so much for that," Sam sighed. "Guess, we're on our own."

"Son of a bitch," Dean murmured sourly. He couldn't deny that he was disappointed at Cas for not showing up now of all times. Didn't he know just how important this had to be for Dean? How freaked out he had to be? How desperately he wanted to know that everything was ok with Sam?

He was stunned at himself after the third question crossed his mind. It was like he had just mentally slipped, for up until that point he had stubbornly not allowed himself to consider the fact that there might be something wrong with his brother. He was too happy to have him back, too utterly thrilled at the fact that he was here to allow himself any doubts. He longed to be absolutely worry-free, even if it was just for a little while. But still that small seed of doubt had already managed to plant itself into his brain.

Well, it was only normal. He was Sammy's big brother and the dude had just been stuck in the cage for fucking months! It was his job to worry.

"All right, you know what?" Dean then decided into the silence. "Screw this. We are getting some answers!" Sam looked almost amused at his stubborn decisiveness. "If Cas can't give 'em to us?" he went on, shrugging indifferently. "We're gonna have to get them ourselves!"

Sam pursed his lips in an amused expression and nodded, but looked surprised when Dean put away his bottle and started moving toward the door. "Wait," he stopped him. "Where – where are we going?"

"To someone who can give us answers," Dean responded smirking, cocking his eyebrow playfully at his little brother. "Let's go!"

Rolling his eyes at his determined brother, Sam laughed while rising up from the table and followed Dean out the door.