The next morning, Sam was sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace behind Bobby’s desk. He hadn’t been able to sleep, too much weighed on his mind, and he was afraid to close his eyes just in case he saw or remembered too much about how he had seen Dean die. Seeing him in his thoughts like that were just too painful right now, it would just rub at the soreness. The only way he wanted to remember Dean, was of him wearing a smile, his eyes sparkling the way that they used to, and his witty humour. The big brother that he had always looked up to and admired, even at the times when he had found him a pain in the ass.

He stared into the bright orange, yellow flames, a blank expression on his face. Even though the heat that the fire was throwing out should have been warm, he was still shivering. It had started as they had got to Bobby’s, and wouldn’t let up. The redness around his eyes had faded into a dark and dull shade, they felt as if they were slightly swollen and bulging, but at least he could see properly again though.

A clock ticked from somewhere near by. Time passed along as it always had, un-effected by the way that people were feeling by the events that had happened to them as it kept going by. Sam felt as though time should have stopped, because Dean wasn’t here to share the seconds, minutes and hours with him. Time had no meaning. It just was, is, and will be, regardless of anything else.

He pulled the woollen blanket that he had draped over his shoulders around himself tighter. He knew that underneath, his clothes were still covered in Dean’s blood. He hadn’t yet felt motivated enough to take a shower and change. Part of him felt that it would make things seem too real, like the first step of being forced to move on, and that if he ignored it, maybe the last couple of days will have vanished as if they never happened, and it would turn out to be that he’d had nothing more then just an intensely vivid nightmare.

He shifted one of his feet as it had started to go to sleep, the numb tingles of pins and needles throbbing through the limb in an instant. As he moved it, he brushed against the stack of newspapers that Bobby had set down on the floor besides him just a couple of hours earlier before leaving in his truck to get the Impala.

The one that had been left on the top of the pile, had been strategically folded open at the obituaries. Bobby was already trying to encourage Sam to look for leads and start hunting again, but he didn’t feel ready. How could he even expect him to think straight this soon after what had happened yesterday. He knew that he wasn’t going to be ready to hunt again for a very long time. Would he even be able to do it any more anyway, even if he wanted to? He was only half of the team now. With Dean gone, would he be able to do the job as successfully? Would he still be able to save all of the innocent people that the demons and spirits would be going after to torment?

Maybe this was Bobby’s way of dealing with losing Dean, to keep as busy as possible, but Sam didn’t feel that the same course of action was best in his case. Sure, he wanted to scream and shout. He wanted to be able to go after the demon that had held Dean’s contract. But where would he even find Lillith? And how could he possibly defeat her, the boss of hell itself? One tough customer that it wasn’t wise to throw caution to the wind for and go after by himself. Not enough was known about her yet.

Their old yellow-eyed enemy, Azazel had been a challenge enough, and Sam figured that Lillith would be a lot more powerful then him, more powerful then they could even imagine. After what happened to Agent Henricksen and those others, they had been shown a small sample of what she could do. A force not to be reckoned with unless you could find a way to be damn sure that you might have a chance of winning before going in guns blazing. Not that guns would make any difference in that fight. They would be just as useless as trying to shoot her with a child’s water pistol. He wondered if even the Colt would work against her.

Sam was scared. The pressure he felt knowing that there were those, including Bobby, and other like-mind hunters, who were counting on him just in case this led to the mightiest of all show-downs, was overwhelming. Sam and Dean’s reputation had grown tremendously through the world of hunters, and they had become well known. Of course, a great deal of this had a lot to do with their dad, who’d introduced them to this crazy supernatural world in the first place. He’d been so good at his job, that nobody seemed to expect any different of his sons. And of course, because of Azazel, Sam had grown to know that so much of what had been happening, was now centred around him for reasons which were still unknown to him.

What was it that had made him so special that he’d been picked on by these evil forces? Maybe when he’d had visions, he might have been some use to them, but he hadn’t had any for a long time now.

His reverie was broken suddenly when he heard knocking on the door. He looked up from the fire and listened as whoever it was kept rapping loudly on the wood.

He seriously considered ignoring it. It wasn’t exactly likely to be anyone he knew, therefore deeming it unimportant. He didn’t exactly want to see anyone at the moment anyway, regardless of who it was. But, as the visitor persisted, he slowly got onto his feet, and shuffled stiffly to the door, still wearing the blanket.

As he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of a teenage boy who was dressed in blue jeans, and a black T Shirt, who stared directly at him with hopeful eyes. Focusing his stare behind the boy, he noticed a beaten up old red truck parked up.

"Um...hi," he said softly, "I was looking for Bobby Singer, I’m not even sure if I’ve got the right place."

Sam looked at him cautiously. "This is Bobby’s house, but he isn’t in right now." his words sounded hoarse in his dry throat.

"Oh, right." the boy continued, "Will he be back soon?"

"Maybe," Sam’s tone was un-interested, though he was always weary of strangers enquiring about anyone he knew, due to the nature of what they did. There was no guarantee that whoever turned up, hadn’t been sent there with harmful intent in mind.

"Suppose I could come back later then." upon saying this, he fished around in his right pocket, and pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to Sam. "Can you please make sure that he gets this, I’d written it in case nobody was here, it’s really very important, and I really do need to speak to him urgently."

"Okay, I’ll pass it on." said Sam as he took the paper.

The boy started to walk slowly back to his truck, and Sam watched him for a short moment before he looked down at the paper that he had given him. He carefully unfolded it, and quickly read the note, surprised by what he saw;

Mr Singer,

You don’t know who I am, but I am a hunter, I have tracked you down through some fellow hunters that I came to meet. They tell me that you know, and have been in contact with Sam and Dean Winchester. I have become aware of Dean’s death, and why it happened. I know that he has been sent to hell, and that nobody could figure out how to save him. Well, I need to tell you, I know how to bring him back, and I believe that I am the only one who can help him right now. Please find my cell phone number below.

Ryan

"Wait!" Sam yelled, suddenly feeling alert for the first time in hours. Ryan had only just got into the truck, and luckily, he heard Sam shout, prompting him to climb back out of the drivers seat. Sam briskly walked towards him. "You can help Dean?" he asked with a desperate tone.

"Y...yes." came a slightly nervous reply.

"You can really help him? You can bring my brother back?" Sam continued, firing the questions at Ryan.

"Your brother?" Ryan asked, looking Sam up and down, "Your Sam, arn’t you?"

"Yeah, I am."

Ryan took a step back, and the expression on his face fell to form that of both sympathy and shock. "I...I didn’t realise that you would be here. I’m sorry about what happened." he said softly.

A surge of emotion flushed through Sam, but he took in a big breath and tried to fight it off so that he could try and keep focused on this new development.

"How can you bring him back? I mean, who are you?" he continued to ask eagerly.

"Maybe we could go inside and talk?" Ryan asked, looking past Sam and glancing toward the house.

"Yeah, of course." and with that, they made their way into the house.

Sam led Ryan into Bobby’s "library". Ryan quietly walked around the edge of the room, taking in the sight of all of the books that were stacked everywhere. He ran a finger over the dusty spines of some of the volumes, whilst he read the titles. "Quite a collection." he commented.

But Sam wasn’t interested in talking about Bobby’s books, he wanted to get straight down to business and find out exactly what Ryan knew, and how it was he could help. "So you were going to explain how you can help Dean?" he asked, crossing his arms across his chest and sitting down on the chair at Bobby’s desk.

Ryan was still making his way around the room, until finally, he stopped, and leaned up against a section of wall that was free from clutter.

"You ever heard of a Transference ritual?" he asked, fixing his eyes firmly on Sam.

"No." said Sam looking slightly puzzled.

"Well," Ryan continued, "when performed, the ritual brings a spirit, and it’s soul back to the body in which it belongs."

"You mean, it brings the person back to life, so that they will be exactly like they were before."

"Yes. Although there are some possible complications with this..." he looked worried suddenly, but continued anyway, "For one thing, it isn’t permanent unless the problem that caused the persons death is resolved."

Sam sighed heavily. "Lillith. She held Dean’s contract, so w’ed have to destroy her. Something that we already tried to do and failed miserably at." he looked disappointed.

"Yeah. And we will only have a week to do it. Dean’s physical form won’t last any longer. After that, his body will die again, and he will be back in Hell." he sighed before continuing, "The Transference ritual can only be performed once on each person, so we’d only have the one shot at this."

Before he’d start to think of another possible failure, Sam had more to ask. "Have you performed the ritual before?"

"No, I havn’t."

"Then how could you possibly know that it will work?" there was a slightly annoyed edge to Sam’s voice now.

"I don’t know for sure, but it’s gotta be worth a try though right?"

Sam leaned back in the seat. "Why are you so keen to help?"

"I’m just a fellow hunter who wants to help out."

Sam tried to size Ryan up. He looked genuine enough, but could he trust him? "How come I havn’t heard of this Transference ritual before? I’m pretty sure that Bobby would have come across it by now."

"You won’t be able to read about it in any of these books. Very few people have even known about it, let alone know how to perform it. The rites were handed down to me through family. I strongly believe that I am currently the only living person who knows the secrets. Everyone else they...died."

There was a moment of silence as Sam reflected on what Ryan had just told him. At this point, he felt willing to try anything to bring Dean back, even if that meant working alongside a perfect stranger. Suddenly, he heard Bobby’s truck approach outside, the tires crushing at the gravel underneath as he pulled to a stop. He carried on listening without a word, as Bobby slammed his door, walked up to the front door and entered.

"Whats this?" he asked as he walked into the room, his eyes fixed narrowly upon Ryan almost un-welcoming.

Ryan pushed himself away from the wall and stood up straight. "Mr Singer?" he asked.

Bobby gazed at him carefully, "Yeah. That’s me. And who might you be?" he walked up to his desk, and leaned himself on it near to Sam.

"The names Ryan."

"Ryan who?" Bobby enquired further.

"Just Ryan will be fine, thank you."

"Ryan claims to know a ritual that will bring Dean back." said Sam, sounding and looking a lot happier then when Bobby had last seen him.

"Woah there!" exclaimed Bobby holding his hands out in front of him. "I don’t know what the hell it is that you are up to young man, but me and Sam have already been through all this. We’ve looked at all the possibilities, and so far, we really havn’t managed to come up with much, and you think that you can just stroll on in here and have all the answers." he shook his head in frustration.

"But Bobby listen," Sam said, "he says that he can perform a Transference ritual to bring Dean back to his body. Once hes back, we will have a week to kill Lillith to make the transfer permanent."

Bobby sighed and looked at Sam in an understanding, but weary way. "Kid, I know what it would mean to you to get your brother back ‘cus it would mean a heck of a lot to me too, and you know it would, but I ain’t never heard of such a ritual, and we can’t go off all half-cocked with some plan put forward by some kid that we don’t even know."

Ryan felt as if he was suddenly being ignored. "Actually, I’m a hunter. Mr Singer..."

"It’s Bobby for Christs sakes." Bobby interupted.

"...Bobby, I only want to help. I’m the only one who can do this."

"Please, lets try this. What have we got to lose?" Sam added.

"We got you to lose, thats what!" Bobby raised the volume of his voice to sound sterner. "I ain’t gonna let that happen!"

"Please." Sam continued, his eyes pleading with the older man.

Bobby got up and started to pace backwards and forwards across the room. "Even if we could do this, even if it worked, you think that nobodys gonna notice that Deans not in Hell no more? We’ll have every demon for miles on our backs straight away! And that would be best case scenario, I mean, they could chose to honour the condition in the deal that was made, which means you die Sam!"

"I was gonna mention an idea that I had for that too..." Ryans words trailed off, and he turned to face the wall so that he didn’t have to look at Sam and Bobby. "There is someone that we could bring in to help us...someone that you have dealt with before. I believe you know him as the Trickster."

"You gotta be kidding me?!" shouted Bobby, "We can’t team up with him, it goes against everything that we’ve been doing this gig for. We don’t work with the other side, we hunt ‘em!"

"It might surprise you to hear this, but not all of those on the other side, are happy about Lillith either. They want to rebel. She rules over them and she is getting more powerful by the day, taking away the freedom that they used to have to wreak their own kind of havoc. I have already heard that the Trickster is amongst those, and that he wants out."

All three of them stayed silent for a few moments. It was difficult to comprehend the thought.

"Say we recruited him," said Bobby finally, "how is it that he will be able to help us?"

"Well, he could make it appear that Dean is still in Hell. Nobody there would know the difference. You’ve seen how realistic he can make things appear, and we’d only need him to keep it up long enough for us to kill Lillith.

"Kid, how old are you?" Bobby asked staring at Ryan.

"I’m seventeen."

"And you think that you can help us kill the most powerful demon that ever was? You wanna risk your ass for that?"

"I believe in the hunt. Lillith needs to die either way, so why not now so we can save Dean too."

"Bobby. I’m going to do this with or without your help, I have to. Even if we don’t succeed, at least I will know that I tried. And the Trickster, well the last time that I saw him, when he kept making that Tuesday run over and over and make it appear that Dean died all those different ways, I got the impression afterwards that he was actually genuinely trying to help me, like he wanted me to learn to carry on fighting even if Dean wasn’t at my side. Why would he want me to do that unless he and some of the others wanted my help too. He wants Lillith killed, and he knows that I have to be involved in making it happen."

Bobby sighed again, and looked deeply into Sam’s eyes. "Well, I guess we have to go on our gut for this one."

"So does that mean your in?" Sam asked.

"Yep, I guess it does."