A/N: First Supernatural fic. Reviews appreciated. Thanks.

Dirt had seeped snuggly into every gap; the arch of his back, the space between his fingers, the minute area between each eyelash. He was sick of the taste of it, the smell of it. Dean flung his arms outwards began to punch his way through the earth. His arms were first out into the air, then he forced his head through. After a few moments he was laid out beside his own grave, filthy, sore but triumphant.

The sunlight should have blinded him, but he forced himself to face it. He stared into the sun he thought he'd never have the fortune to be blinded by again and laughed.

As he laid there he felt the muscles of his back moving, the blood pumping to fill them and strengthen them. It felt like the gentle throb of a lazy hard-on. He squirmed a little against the ground until the body felt good, then stood and looked around him.

He'd been buried in a wood. Every single tree around him was fallen, as though he'd punched them all aside as he'd risen from the grave. Dean kissed his dirty knuckles, though he knew the pride was misplaced.

Dean looked up to the sky, eyes wide and pure shining white.

~O~

The pipes only banged and rattled as Dean twisted the sink tap. He kicked at the useless piece of crap and looked down at his foot blankly as he felt the distant throb of pain. Pain wasn't the same anymore.

He twisted round and spotted a pay phone in the far corner. The gas store couldn't have been abandoned that long – there was still money in the cash register, or there had been until Dean liberated it, and the place was even still clean.

Dean slid over the top of the counter and plucked the phone off it's cradle. It'd be dead. He swung it up to his ear and said 'hmph,' as the live tone sounded in his ear. Okay, he could rattle three of Sam's numbers off the top of his head, but he'd try the real one. The urgent one. He crammed in some of the stolen change from his pocket and dialed.

'Hey this is Sam, leave a message' his brother's voice monotoned.

'Sammy,' Dean said. His voice was dry, broken. Perfect. 'I just woke up and...man, where are you? Sam, please. I'm gonna try and find you, just stay put okay?'

Dean shoved the phone back into the cradle and went back to the counter. He slid onto the top and used a cloth he'd found to scrub at his face again. It wasn't great, but it was better than nothing. He decided to get out of his clothes and try to dust them down – he was going to need to go into a town soon. Dean stripped to his boxers and beat his shirt and pants against the counter-top. Once the dust had stopped flying he used the cloth to scrub at his arms and legs.

As he wiped at his chest he realized there was some mark on his upper arm. He made to scrub at it before realizing it was more than that. Someone had iburned/i him, someone had imprinted their goddamn hand right on his arm. Dean pulled his pants and shirt back on angrily and headed for the door.

His hand had just curled around the handle when the ground began to shake. He released it and looked around himself sharply, eyes flashing to white. A noise was beginning to sink through the air. It wasn't moving closer, it was just filling his head. It was high pitched, desperately painful. Dean gritted his teeth and ducked down against the closest wall.

~O~

The woman on the desk in the library didn't look twice at him. That was fortunate, because the long walk from the gas station into town had done nothing to cool him down. He wanted to know how he'd come to be here, and just who the hell had left their hand printed on his arm as though he was their bitch.

Dean sat down at one of the computer bays and took a moment to figure out how to use the library's system. It didn't take long before he was typing Sam's personal details into the cell provider's site and the GPS popped up. A flashing red dot hovered over a map of the world before honing in on Sam's location. He was on a street just a few blocks away. Probably a motel.

He shut down the browser and left the computer bay. He couldn't wait to surprise Sam. Sam who by now probably never expected to see his face again. Pretty quickly it'd turn into a fight of course, when little brother realized he wasn't the same as before. Dean pictured bowling into Sam, pinning him to the ground with ease. Sam would figure out what the hell was going on, and then Dean would leave him alone.

~O~

The motel was sleazy – Sam clearly hadn't come into money whilst Dean had been burning in the pit. The big flowery wall paper in the hall was peeling away, and the suspicious stains weren't just reserved for the bedrooms. The whole place smelled like mold and sex.

Room 207. Dean banged his fist against the door a couple of times.

Dean listened for footsteps, but they were drowned out by the enthusiastic noises of the woman across the hall. She sounded like a porn track, like she'd been taking lessons from late night TV. Some soulless whore, probably.

After a moment the door to Sam's room swung open. Some chick in her underwear – sex hair teased upwards, lipstick smudged. Nice work Sammy. Dean did a second take and saw through it; Ruby. Her demonic features shifted beneath the meat suit. Dean nodded at her, and saw her giving him the same once over.

'Sam home?' he said brightly.

'No, he's...just come in.' she grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room.

'What are you doing here?' she asked him.

'Visiting my little brother. I hear he's shacked up with a demon,' Dean grinned.

'Idiot. Why aren't you in hell?' Ruby was all but circling him.

Dean held his hands up, 'I've got no idea, okay? I just woke up. Dug myself out and here I am.'

'Dug...' Ruby repeated. Narrowing her eyes at him. She crossed the room and pulled on some jeans and a top, 'look, Sam's going to be back soon. If he figures out you're...well, he's a little unpredictable right now. I'll tie you up and-'

She caught Dean's pleased expression and rolled her eyes, 'we'll make it look like I ran you through the tests. You know, so you're human.'

Dean ran a hand across the back of his neck. He probably couldn't trust Ruby, but what was she going to do really? He moved towards her and caught a fistful of her hair, 'All right, but just so you know...this...' Dean gestured towards himself 'doesn't make us fucking friends, okay?'

There was a chair by the desk under the TV. Dean made himself comfortable and held his hands behind him.

~O~

Dean shook his head against the throbbing pain in his temple. Ruby hadn't held back. He wasn't bleeding, but he could already feel bruises blossoming out from every part of his body she'd been able to reach. There was salt spilled here and there on the ground, and her knife beside him on the floor. She'd emptied a bottle of holy water down the sink and refilled some of it with tap water, throwing it over him. She'd left him tied up and flicked on the TV. He could hear some woman droning on about her experience as an alcoholic. It was making him want a beer.

She moved from the bed with a start when the lock bolt moved in the door. Sam pushed the door open, carrying a couple of paper bags, a newspaper peeking out of one and fresh vegetables in the other. Same old Sam. Dean shifted in his chair, fed up of this now. He'd expected, no he'd wanted a fight. He was different now, but he hadn't forgotten the years in hell as a human. He remembered the exact moment he'd given up hoping Sam would save him. Anger rose in his chest, hot and untempered. He breathed out sharply.

'Sam, it's Dean – he just came to the door – I tested him, I did everything...he's fine. He's just fine Sam,' Ruby was talking really quickly, apparently hoping to get it all in before his brother wielded a knife at him.

'Dean?' Sam repeated, disbelieving. He dropped the paper bags he was holding and rushed to the chair. 'Why is he still tied up?' Sam asked, tugging at the rope Ruby had used.

'The shock...it doesn't matter. Let me,' Ruby grabbed the knife from Dean's side and sliced open the ropes, a little too close to his skin for comfort. Dean held back a grunt of displeasure and got to his feet. Before he could even move Sam had shoved into him, arms wrapping around him tightly. He smelled like Ruby and girls shampoo. Dean forced himself to hug back, letting his fingers dig deep into Sam's shoulders in an effort to stall some of the anger.

'How did you...I tried Dean, I did everything I could to...' Sam's words tumbled out too fast and Dean noted the tears in his eyes as he stepped back.

'Did you make some kind of deal?' Dean asked, 'is that why I'm back?' He was already angry at Sam, he was going to be even angrier if the idiot had made some kind of bargain with his soul. It was pointless, it was done, Sam should have just left him there.

'No, I tried...' Sam looked sad, disappointed even 'no one would deal with me. I tried everything I could to get you out but I couldn't. So you don't know why you're out?'

'Not a goddamn clue,' Dean snapped impatiently. Ruby shot him a look from Sam's side, telling him to calm down. 'Sorry...it's been a long day I guess,' he offered.

'It's fine. You're tired,' Sam was nodding frantically, 'take some of my clothes, I'll go and get some food...and see if I can't get some books. We can figure this out.'

Dean nodded, though the thought of putting on Sam's clothes made him want to laugh. He'd look like a kid wearing his dad's shirt.

Sam pulled him into a tight hug again and then was off to the door. He pulled Ruby with him. Dean heard Sam ask her why she'd told Dean who she was. She shrugged and kissed Sam on the cheek, easing him out into the hall.

Dean slumped back into the chair, glad he'd gone. He wanted to kill him.