A/N: Jared is always so amazing at the nuances he puts into even the smallest gestures that I wondered at Sam's lack of surprise at seeing Dean alive in 12.01. It occurred to me that maybe a certain smug somebody had been too smug to keep her yap shut.

As torture went, it was pretty unremarkable; Princess Pantsuit needed to do a lot more studying up on Winchesters if she thought her unimaginative efforts were going to make Sam crack. Cold, fire, and knives? He'd suffered worse and longer in the Cage. Hallucinations of blame and guilt? He'd said crueler things to himself a thousand times over. Hallucinations of other things? ~~"Was it good for you?"~~ Yeah, still not even close.

"Go. Screw. Yourself." He said, again, and forced out a casual chuckle at the mingled consternation and disbelief on Pantsuit's face as she took the knife to him again, still without getting her desired reaction. "You don't seem to have the hang of this yet. Where's Bunhead? Maybe you should give her another turn."

Pantsuit smirked and 'hmmm'd' like she thought she'd caught him trying to pull a fast one. "She's gone to kill your brother."

"That'll be a good trick, considering he's already dead."

"Yes, I know that's what you'd like me to believe. Pity your brother had to spoil it by calling to threaten me."

Was she trying to make Sam break by using Dean as a carrot and a stick? Soooo seven years ago.

"You know, I know from experience that there's no cell service in the Great Beyond," Sam told her. "You can get two-way radio, though, ifyou know what you're doing."

She kept on with the smirk. "You can keep pretending all you like, Sam. Dean found the vet who dug the bullet out of your leg and called me, so, I've sent Ms. Watt to kill him." She added, then, brightly, "I'll tell you what, I'll give her a call and ask her to bring back a trophy to confirm the kill."

She set the knife down on the table and pulled out her cellphone, dialing and holding it to her ear with a too-smug look on her face.

A smug look that turned puzzled, then concerned, then perplexed, morphing into a kind of horror as Bunhead apparently didn't answer.

Sam's heart stopped then started again so hard it hurt. "Problem?" he asked. Was Dean was alive?

"Just a slight miscommunication, I'm sure," Pantsuit said. She put down the phone and picked up the knife. "Now, where were we?" She tried to sound casual but the tremor in her voice and her still-shocked expression gave away the lie.

Dean was alive.

"You were just realizing that my brother killed your pit-bull and now he's after you. So, you're in this all by yourself and you're out of your league."

"I assure you, Sam, I'm quite capable of –"

Dean was coming to get him.

"Is he going to rip your lungs out, or just take you apart piece by piece?"

Sam didn't need the fear he saw on her face to know he was right about Dean's threats; but that look of startled terror was worth the agitated pressure she put behind the knife as she dug into him again.

Dean was alive.

Dean was coming to get him.

The end.