Note: This sonuvabitch website keeps messing up the chapter so it looks strange when I post. I apologize for all of you who are suffering with me deleting and reposting this thing several times over. Your emails must be having a fit. I am so sorry

Chapter 1- Lazarus Rising

Dean's eyes widened as he gasped for air. He found his hands to be clawing up a soft, brown powder. Dirt. Managing to create a puncture in the soil, his eyes became blinded by the bright rays of the sunshine creeping down into the hole with him. Soon his hands were free, then his forearm, and shoulders. He sat up quickly, brushing the dirt from his eyelashes and balled his fists to wipe his eyes, letting them soon release to turn flat as he wiped his hands across the rest of his dirty face, pulling back his legs to shift himself out of the dirt. He lifted his body out of the hole and rolled onto the grass beside it; he laid on his back, staring up at the cloudless sky and coughed up the sediment that had trickled its way into his throat. Where was he? What happened? With a groan, Dean pulled himself off of the ground and slowly stood up. His legs wobbled on his feet, feeling like jelly underneath him. His eyes squinted against the light as he looked around the scenery. There was a small, stick cross tied together by a small piece of rope where his head had been. He frowned, realizing what had happened. He had died. But if he had died...why the hell was he here, and where the hell was he? Once his legs had steadied themselves, Dean began to make his way far from where he had been buried-apparently-and observed his surroundings. His burial site was the only thing in what appeared to be an old forest. However, it wasn't perceived to Dean that it had been an old forest due to all of the trees being knocked over, and burned so badly that the only remnants of them was the ash that has stained itself onto the ground.
Dean continued walking, for what seemed to have lasted forever. He lost track of the miles he had traveled, but soon found himself running towards a stone driveway, with a building sitting on top of it. The closer to the building he got, the faster he ran towards it. A bell rang as he stepped through the door, and given by the state this building was left in, he could tell it was an abandoned gas station. To the far right, the counter appeared to have been apart of some robbery heist. Upon further inspection, Dean could see tiny bullets crammed inside. There had been an attempt to cover the bullets over with paint at some point in time, but the attempt had clearly been rendered unsuccessful. The register had been pried open, and judging by the spider webs in the corners of the barren money compartments, this had happened some time ago. For the most part, the racks on the aisles seemed somewhat stable. They hadn't collapsed over time, or broken from not having been used. The racks seemed to be freshly stocked, but that would soon change the moment Dean decided to rummage throughout the inside. On the back wall of the building, and the wall to the right of the counter, there were refrigerators containing different beers and soft drinks. However, the lights hadn't turned on, and judging by how long this place seemed to be closed, Dean decided the best option would be to not open the doors and drink however many years worth of expired sugar in a can. He began to search for sustenance.
His eyes scanned the shelves as he walked, the second his eyes landed on a bottle of water he went after it, quickly spinning the cap off and nearly swallowing the entire thing in one heavenly gulp. His head soon turned to toss the bottle away as his eyes landed on a pretty good sized mirror. He walked slowly towards the mirror and inspected his face, no obvious cuts or bruises being visible, then he slowly began to lift his shirt up and off, in search of any scarring from the hellhound attack. Once again only to find that no marks were left on his abdomen, and when he turned to inspect the rest of his body for any marks, he found his eyes turn wide as he noticed a burned, red handprint on his left shoulder. Who the hell left that...or what, rather. After Dean had finished inspecting his bare torso, he grabbed his shirt and pulled it back over his body. He roamed the aisles of the barren gas station, grabbing a basket and hoarding bottles of water and looting several bags of candy. Sustenance was rather important, after all. Dean began to walk to the front of the gas station so he could pack his stockpile. As he walked towards the door, he caught a glimpse of a magazine rack out of the corner of his eye. Intrigued, he turned around on his heels, now fully interested in what he thought he saw. And to his surprise, it was exactly what he thought it was. He snagged the copy of Busty Asian Beauties with a smirk and promptly headed towards the door when the sound of static could be heard as a TV and soon, a radio turned on by themselves. Immediately, Dean's instincts kicked in and he scrambled to find a bag of salt, when he had found one that had been hidden behind a few cans of green beans, he began to salt a window, assuming it was a demon, naturally. Dean's actions were soon brought to a halt as his ears began to ring sharply. His eyes squinted as he fell to his knees, slamming his hands to cover his ears to try and block the sound. Somehow, it only managed to level into a crescendo. Once the sound hit its highest octave, it had sent Dean into a low groan as it continued, the glass on the windows shattering as the noise produced more feedback. The noise soon came to an abrupt stop as quickly as it had started. Dean pulled himself off of the floor once he had recovered and took his phone out of his pocket, dialing his little brother Sammy. His little brother was hunting with him now. He had left his university, Stanford, to help Dean track down their father who had been out on a hunting trip and hadn't been home in a few days. When his brother didn't answer the call, Dean tried to call a family friend of theirs called Bobby. He ended up getting an answer, but the conversation got cut off quickly as Bobby had hung up, expecting a demon to be playing some sort of cruel, sick joke on him. Dean released a frustrated growl once he heard the line go dead over the phone. He frowned, and slid his cellphone back into his pocket, exiting the store to hotwire a nearby car to drive himself to Bobby's place.

Bobby approached his front door with a rifle full of rock salt tucked gingerly underneath his arm. He opened it slowly, and scoffed when he saw Dean standing on his doorstep. With some scuffling, Dean made his way inside of Bobby's cluttered room and pulled out a silver knife. He extended his arm, making sure that Bobby had a good view of what he was about to do. He took the knife and dragged it across his forearm, Bobby seeming to relax at the revelation that no, Dean was not a shape shifter. Bobby pulled him into a tight embrace, soon to quickly be followed by dousing Dean's clear complexion with some holy water; this action earning a groan from Dean, of course. As soon as Dean didn't cry out in pain from the water, Bobby was fully convinced that he had been resurrected. Dean wiped his face after he had proven himself, clearing it from the salt water. Once the men had made their peace, the older Winchester took a seat in a cushion chair and sighed. "So, where's Sam?" he began to inquire.
"Sam?" Bobby spoke his name, his tone ringing with anger. "Haven't seen that boy in months."
Dean's eyebrows arched as he leaned forward towards Bobby, trying to make sure he had heard his father figure correctly. "What do you mean you haven't seen him in months?"
Bobby shrugged simply, his tone harsh. "Well sorry to break it to you, sunshine. But Sam hasn't been the same since you bit it."
Dean pursed his lips. "What do you mean?"

Bobby sighed and took a swig of beer. "He hasn't called or nothin'. Figure he went out of his way to pull you from the pit."

Dean frowned, eyebrows furrowing together. "You try finding him?"

Bobby was silent.

"Bobby!"

"Well, I figure he don't want t'a be found, boy!"

Dean growled and stood up from his seat. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and walked over to Bobby's laptop, typing a few things on the keyboard and read the report outloud. "He's in Illinois." Dean sighed, closing the laptop.

"Illinois?" Bobby asked in disbelief, earning a simple nod from the older Winchester, who grabbed Bobby's keys that were left on the table and throwing them to him. "Let's go."
-

Bobby stood behind the older Winchester as they walked along the corridors of the motel, in search of Sam's room. Dean flashed Bobby a look when they found a room with a bold 209 written in the middle of a heart. With an eyeroll, Dean knocked on the door, eyes widening in surprise as he saw a scantily dressed woman.

"Where is it?" She asked, eyebrows raised.

Dean turned to look at Bobby over his shoulder. "Where's what?"
"

The pizza." The woman stated. She had long, black hair and was dressed in only a tank top and underwear.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "I think we may have the wro-" he stopped speaking after he saw his little brother peer from behind the woman.

"Sammy?" Dean's face lit up with a smile.
Sam motioned for the woman to step aside, as he approached to get a better look at what seemed to be his older brother. His gaze shifted between Dean and Bobby, who nodded.

"It's him, Sam." Bobby confirmed. "Tested it out myself." He chuckled with a smile.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief, and quickly pulled his older brother into a tight hug, resting his chin on his brother's shoulder. "Dean." He took in his brother's scent.

Dean wrapped his arms around his brother tightly, burying his face into his chest. "Heya Sammy." he grinned.
The woman stood off to the side, staring at them with wide, confused eyes. She cleared her throat as Sam pulled back from the embrace, smiling down at his brother happily.
"Are you two uh-together?" She asked, inquiringly.

Dean shot her a disgusted look, nose wrinkling at the thought of it. "Ew! Gross! He's my brother!" Dean rebutted, giving Sam an awkward side glance. The woman raised her hands up in defense.

"You can uh, go now." Sam smiled awkwardly to her, dismissing her of her duty. She left without another peep.
Sam waved for Dean and Bobby to come inside of the room, closing the door behind them and turning the lock on the door. Bobby stood by the door while Dean stood in front of him as Sam took a seat on the foot of the bed, staring up at them expectantly. Dean's arms were folded over his chest; now that the formalities had been over with, it was time for him to go into big brother mode. "How'd you do it, Sam? Sell your soul?" he asked, eyebrows not furrowed as he glared down at his brother.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "How'd I do what, Dean?" He asked, clearly puzzled.

"How'd you get me raised from the pit?" Dean snapped.

Sam's eyebrows wiggled as he tried to understand, he was generally confused as to what Dean was talking about. "I didn't do anything, Dean! I tried, but I couldn't get anywhere. No demon would trade my soul for yours." he frowned.

"You didn't raise me?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow, trying to understand.

"Then what did?" Bobby interrupted. The men looked at each other.

"Demon?" Dean asked, gaze fluctuating between Bobby and Sam.

Sam shook his head. "Demons don't have that kind of juice."

Dean sighed and rubbed his temples. He looked up at Bobby. "You got any suggestions?"

Bobby shrugged, "We can go see Pamela Barnes. She's an old friend of mine, a psychic."

Dean raised his eyebrows at Bobby, Sam stood up. "You want to go see a damn psychic?" he spat.

Bobby made a gesture with his hand. "You got any other idea on what to do?"

Sam walked over to them. "It's worth a shot." He admitted.

Dean sighed. "We might as well."

Bobby nodded. "I'll go give her a call." He pulled his phone out and left the room to call his dear friend.

Sam and Dean stared at each other in silence. "So how you been?" Dean asked with a crooked smile. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, indicating that Sam couldn't have been doing too bad since he had managed to get a girl back to his room.

Sam rolled his eyes. He had been miserable since Dean died. The girl was only to be a brief distraction. "I've been alright." He smiled softly. "I'm just glad you're back."
Dean nodded with a smile. "Yeah, me too."

Bobby returned within a few minutes. He closed the door behind him and hung his phone up, sliding it back into his pocket. The two Winchester brothers looked over at him as he walked in.

"She can see us now." Bobby stated, he slid his keys out of his shirt pocket. Dean nodded and gave him a motion that they'd be out as soon as he could. Bobby went out to his car and just as Dean turned to leave, Sam cleared his throat to get Dean's attention.

He took Dean's amulet from around his neck and handed it to him. "I figured you would want this back." He said with a soft smile.
Dean smiled softly as well, and took it back, putting it around his neck back in its original position. "Yeah, means a lot to me."

Sam nodded and threw Dean the keys to the Impala, smiling widely as he caught them. "Ah, almost forgot!" He kissed the keys and dashed out, soon to be followed by his little brother.

"Hey Sweetheart." Dean grinned widely, letting his hands wrap around the hood of the car as he kissed his perfect car.

Sam rolled his eyes as he slowly approached. "Need a room?" He teased, getting back a grunt in response.

"Oh shut up!" Dean growled and slid off of the hood and went to get into the driver's seat.

Sam smiled and took his usual place in the passenger's seat.
Dean grinned and turned the music on, blasting AC/DC into the night.
He sang along and put his foot on the gas, following behind Bobby as they drove about four miles down the interstate.

It didn't take them long before they were at Pamela's house. Bobby was already out and talking with Pamela by the time Dean pulled into the driveway and parked. Once they ceased to move, Dean and Sam got out and walked over to Bobby.

Bobby motioned over at Pamela. "This here is Dean, that's his little brother Sam."
Pamela grinned at the two brothers and winked at Dean, inviting them inside.

She skipped the normal formalities and brought them to the table where everything was set up. She grabbed a lighter and started to set up the candles. Once the table was perfectly set up, Pamela instructed them to take their seats so they could begin. "Now I just need to touch something our mystery monster touched." She looked over at Dean with a smirk, placing a hand on Dean's thigh, who in turn, kicked the table to get her hands after him.

"Well he sure as hell didn't touch me there!" He snapped.

Pamela smirked more as Dean fidgeted to roll his sleeve up, revealing the burned handprint. Sam and Bobby exchanged a glance, surprised that Dean hadn't said anything before. Their glance didn't last long however, as Pamela put her hand on Dean's shoulder and motioned for all of their hands to be held around in the circle. They all closed their eyes and Pamela began to summon whatever the hell had pulled Dean out. "I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear to me before this circle." She repeated this a few times before getting a response. The closer Pamela got to a response, the more interaction they got in their session, as a TV had turned on providing feedback. "I invoke, conjure, and command….Castiel? No. Sorry, Castiel. I don't scare that easy."

Dean glanced over at Sam. "Castiel?" He mumbled in confusion. Sam shrugged.

"Its name." Pamela explained. "It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back." Pamela spoke, Dean glanced back at her. The TV produced more and more feedback, making the room shake.

"Maybe we should stop." Bobby spoke, worried.

"I almost got it!" Pamela interrupted. All thought of safety had been thrown out of the window at this point, bulb in the light above them even shattered at the high frequency. Within a few moments, the men stared at the roaring flames in the middle of the table as Pamela's jaw dropped into a scream. The whites of her eyes had melted down her cheeks, causing Dean to stand up and rushing over to help her sit up. At the top of her lungs, she screamed for the men to get out, and they scurried away as fast as they had came.

The men drove back to the motel room, gathered in a circle to reconstruct their game plan. The night had fallen as they bickered over what to do, or who to go see, but only resided on nothing being configured. Eventually, the men decided that it would be best to draw up their game plan the next morning and get some shut eye. Dean slept in the same motel room as Sam had the night before, while Bobby went to sleep in his car. During the middle of the night, Sam had did his best to leave the room quietly, but Dean could hear him move, he was wide awake. Dean was unable to close his eyes, flashbacks of hell painting his lids as a movie screen of all the torture of hell played on repeat. The screams rang into his ear, as if he were sitting next to a stereo. Once Sam had left in the Impala, Dean rolled over on his side and grabbed his phone. "Bobby? It's Dean." He paused as he waited for a response. "Let's go summon this son of a bitch."

Bobby and Dean has scouted the area before they reached Sam's motel previously during the day, and had found the right place to summon whatever form of Hell's bitch this was going to turn out to be. It was an abandoned warehouse just off the side of the road. The men promptly got to work once they had broken the door open. Bobby went straight for the several bottles of black spray paint that they had bought, taking to the walls to paint every sigil he knew. Dean, on the other hand, conjured a potion that would spring the bitch inside. Once the potion was made, Dean got the weapons cleaned, filled, and ready for whatever it was that they would have to kill. With a nod from Bobby signaling that he was ready, Dean began the summoning.

Nothing happened.

"You sure you did it right?" Bobby asked with a raised eyebrow. Before Dean could speak, the entire building began to rattle. The shutters that had been placed on top of the building started to tear off, a loud bang smashing against the building. The duo grabbed their weapons and moved to the back of the building as the doors of the warehouse blew open with hurricane force winds, a shadowed man stepping through. Dean and Bobby exchanged glances, quickly pulling the triggers on their rifles to shoot the bitch. Nothing. The man walked closer, seeming unfazed by the bullets. Lights shattered as the man stepped through. Dean froze, his eyes widening. "Jimmy?" He asked, in disbelief.

The man shook his head, pressing his index and middle finger to Bobby's head, making him fall to the floor in a faint.

Dean couldn't move. "W-Who are you then?"

The man's voice was deep, gravely even. "I'm the one that gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.

Dean scoffed. "Well I figured that much." he paused as his eyebrows furrowed. His heart hurt. "Why are you wearing Jimmy Novak as a meatsuit?" he grabbed a knife from behind him.

The man tilted his head. "My name is Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord."

Interesting, he was Heaven's bitch...

Dean scoffed once more. He took a step forward and lunged the knife where Jimmy's heart would be.

Castiel removed the knife nonchalantly. "We need to talk."

Dean frowned. "Not until you give me a valid reason as to why you're using my b-my friend's body."

Castiel squinted his eyes. "Because it is the only way you would listen to me." the man stated.

Dean shot him a glare. "Listen to you?"

Castiel nodded. "My other attempts to reach you didn't seem to work."

Dean was intrigued now. "You mean all that screechin'-that was you?"

"Some people have the ability to just hear my speech, I thought you would have it. I was wrong."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah? And what makes you think I will listen?"

Castiel looked at him sternly. "Because we need your help."

He scoffed. "My help?"

Castiel nodded.

Dean shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. "So just for shits and giggles, if I were to buy into this angel crap, why'd you do it?"

Castiel licked his lips. He could sense Jimmy's presence around Dean. All of Jimmy's emotions, all of his memories, everything poured into Castiel. "Good things do happen."

Dean's eyes were starting to get puffy. He was staring right at Jimmy, but a completely different soul was inside. "Yeah well, not in my experience, pal." His voice choked.

Jimmy urged Castiel to step forward, as if he was completely in control of his own body once again. "What's the matter?" Jimmy tilted his head. "You don't think you deserve to be saved?" Castiel could feel Jimmy's heart break, as he could sense what Dean would respond with.

"Why'd you do it?"

"Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you."