Dean was sprawled across the cheap motel bedspread when Sam finally slipped into the room. Relief washed over the younger Winchester as he laid eyes on the brother he had thought was lost forever.

Then Sam took in the eased posture of his brother, the smell of sulfur that clung to the room. He could feel deep in his bones that something wasn't right. But nothing had been right since Dean was dragged to Hell, and now…

Dean's eyes glinted pitch black in the dim lighting.

Not Dean, Sam thought, hand still gripping the doorknob. But close enough.