Disclaimer: See Chapter one.

Louder, Louder

And we'll run for our lives

I can hardly speak I understand

Why you can't raise your voice to say

Sam landed on street in front of Dean's feeling surprisingly intact. He didn't feeling like freaking Casper or anything and if he ignored the fact that he was 100% positive that nobody could see him, he felt pretty much human.

Sam walked up to what he assumed was Lisa's house and then if he had a heart Sam was sure it would have stopped beating. There, sitting by himself on the porch, was the reason he came here and not that Paradise crap.

Dean.

It was then however that he was reminded the biggest downfall of his predicament- Sam could see Dean, but Dean could not see him.

Sam sighed. Sam now had new respect for Dean when he was doing god knows what when he was in a coma after they were in that car crash. Did he feel like this when Sam could not see him?

Sam decided to walk up to Dean to see if he could make any contact at all. Dean was just sitting there-nursing his drink- with a look of sadness and desperation Sam had never wanted to see. Sam felt a surge of sympathy; Sam must of just died, and Dean was grieving thinking that Sam was now in Hell. Sam just remembered how he felt after Dean went to hell and he wanted to scream just thinking about the thought. It was settled: Dean needed to know Sam was there and not in Hell as quickly as possible. But how?

A dirty newspaper by the doorstep caught Sam's attention. Had the world been effected since Lucifer was stuck back in the cage? Had Sam done more damage than he hadn't realized? Sam wondered if he had the ability to move objects and to nobody's surprise, he could not pick up the newspaper. Sam grunted in annoyance and instead kneeled down to see at least front page for any new headlines but instead Sam nearly choked when he saw the date: August 15th, 2010.

August 15th? That would mean Sam must have been gone for at least... 3 months. God...

Just then a light nearby blew out randomly in a busting motion.

"The Hell?" Sam noticed Dean got up immediately and how some the branches on the trees around them starting moving because a cold wind made a sudden appearance. Sam had made a lot of mistakes in his short lifetime but he was not stupid. He knew these were causes of a Supernatural occurrence, but could they really be because of him?

Sam noticed Dean muttering "Son of a bitch" in a pure Dean fashion and then to his horror, heading to the trunk Impala –which was currently under a tarp- to no doubt be getting his gun and rock salt.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

How could Sam be so stupid? He was a ghost, something they hunted; of course he was going to alert Dean eventually. And what did Sam expect? For Dean to jump for joy and be best friends with a ghost like they were in that Casper movie? Now did Dean not only know it was him haunting his ass, Dean was going to try to get rid of him... just like every ghost Sam had personally got rid of. If Dean knew he was there he would probably be saying "Karma is a bitch."

Dean was now walking around with a shotgun in one hand and his EMF meter in the other-He was in complete Hunter mode. Sam had no idea if Dean had hunted in the three months he was gone, but Dean seemed to be in no trouble getting back into it, even if Sam was the prey.

"Come on...," Sam heard Dean mutter; "Let's go into the light, you ghostly creep."

Sam raised his eyebrows. He didn't know whether to be insulted or to just laugh. Suddenly Sam realized Dean was coming too close- any closer and his EMF meter was sure to go off. Sam jogged away from Dean making sure there was a secure distance between them. Dean appeared to be getting frustrated, and he was eyeing his drink as if he was perhaps going crazy or had too much to drink and nothing Supernatural was happening anyways. Sam didn't want Dean to think he was crazy, but he also didn't want to get shot into oblivion either. Sam needed to find a way to let Dean know it was him following him without frightening the hell out of Dean and having Dean want to kill him.

Suddenly Sam heard a series of beeps he didn't want to hear: Dean got too close and the EMF meter went off.

A look of triumph creped its way across Dean's face which Sam supposed was a look that had not appeared on Dean's face too often the past couple of months. Then – with lack of hesitation like a true hunter- Dean took his shot gun and shot into the air three times. They all missed Sam completely, so he supposed Dean was just trying to psyche out the ghost and get it away without actually hitting it.

"Get away now, Casper!" Dean yelled into night, "I don't have the time or the energy to salt and burn your sorry ass. So... just go away and stay away from my family."

Sam felt a sudden cold rush over him. Sam knew he made Dean promise to go with Lisa and Ben... make a family with them... but never before had Dean called anyone besides him and their dad family. And now Sam was not part of the equation anymore... just a sad little ghost haunting his brother who was trying to move on. Could Sam have been selfish for coming back and not letting Dean Move on?

Just then the front door being roughly opened caught both Dean and Sam's attention. Lisa came out in her nightgown with an expression that would no doubt even scare half of the things they had hunted.

"What the hell do you think you were doing?" Lisa hissed in a tone she most likely used only in few occasions. "Using a shotgun? Ben is asleep, Dean! And for no reason is he to see you doing these things-"

"It's not what you think, Lisa!" Dean shot back, "There was something here- probably a ghost or something..."

"A Ghost." Lisa repeated, her arms were crossed and her eyes glaring. "And why can I ask would a ghost be on our street?" Lisa put her hands on her hips, "Trying to haunt the neighbours? Coming to Halloween early? What, Dean?"

"Now don't you mock me." Dean was glaring back with as much force as Lisa and his voice had venom in it which he only used when he was beginning to get angry. "Don't you mock I do. Fact is I know more about this stuff then you do. I've lived it my whole life, I saved you and your son from it." Dean went to previously abandoned drink and took a long sip. "Don't you dare mock me."

Lisa gave a long sigh and then closed her eyes. "Dean... I care about you... a lot. But this can't continue. The drinking... this." Lisa opened her eyes and made sure to look at him fully. "If you are going to stay here, the drinking needs to stop, and you need to leave hunting behind." Dean turned around and glared.

"Hunting?" Dean growled, "Or Sam? I know what you mean so just spit it out!"

"Fine, Sam!" Lisa countered back. "I can't imagine how hard it is for you, but Dean Sam is gone-" Dean glared at her much harder than before- "But me and Ben are here! We are here and we care about you! But this..." Lisa motioned to the shot gun and the drink. "This needs to stop if you're going to stay here. If there actually is a ghost... thingy. Get someone you know to take care of it, because I am not getting my son mixed up in this." Lisa looked up to Dean helplessly with tears in her eyes. "Dean, please..."

Dean headed towards the truck which Sam supposed was now his. "I need some time to think."

Lisa stomped towards the drink and grabbed Dean's arm, "Dean, you have been drinking. Just let me-"

"Dean grabbed his arm back. "I'm not going far," Dean slammed the truck door shut. "Just leave me alone, Lis."

Dean turned the car engine on and took off to god knows where leaving Lisa and Sam helpless.

O-O-O

Dean was not lying, the cemetery was not far. Dean swerved a little and may have passed a few speed limits –okay more than few- but he got there in once piece... which was both a blessing and curse.

Dean knew the steps off by heart now. 15 steps forwards, 5 steps left of the creepy Willow Tree, two steps forward and two graves to the right and he found it. It was always there waiting for him.

Sam Winchester
1983-2010
Beloved brother and friend

It was a pathetic excuse of a grave according to Dean. Dean would have liked to put ``Saved the world from the freaking apocalypse, you ungrateful assholes`` But Dean had a feeling the priest would not be so thrilled and a few questions would be asked. Bobby had offered to proper fire for Sam, but as Bobby knew there was nothing to burn. Instead Dean took Lisa`s offer to make a proper grave so at least Dean felt somewhat close to a grave that really did not portray Sam and who he was at all. It was just a way for Dean to move on. Dean gave a sad laugh and wished he had his drink right now... move on...

Dean knelt down and just stared at the grave for awhile. Dean knew that Sam was not actually here, and this grave was meaningless, but he found comfort sometimes just outlining his finger around Sam`s name on the grave. Dean couldn`t bear to mention Sam`s name in front of Lisa or Ben, and he never contacted Bobby or Cas anymore... maybe just going to this grave spot was a reminder that Sam used to be here, and was not this amazing dream that Dean just used to have.

After kneeling down for a couple of minutes a sudden wind picked up again and Dean`s EMF meter started going haywire.

`Are you serious-`` Dean started, but then the lights in his truck started to go on and off for no apparent reason and Dean had a good hunch why.

`Son a bitch!`` Dean grabbed his shotgun, raised it in the air, and made his way to his truck. The behaviour of this ghost was puzzling. Normally ghosts haunt a specific place or object and it is very rare for them to leave and change their pattern. Yet this ghost was following him like a lost puppy. What the hell?

O-O-O

Sam felt bad for interrupting Dean's time with his grave and misleading him towards the truck, but he found looking at his old grave curiously interesting. He remembered Dean commenting once on being sad he would miss his own funeral and Sam supposed this was a similar experience.

Sam was starting to learn quickly the rules of being one of the dead. Nobody could see him, but if he used the right tools, he could let people know he was there. Sam realized Sam couldn't just touch any old objects such as the newspaper, but he was able to touch the truck because it was Dean's and Dean was the one he was haunting. Got to love loopholes.

Sam took a good look at his grave... it was oddly normal. He didn't know what he would get if he got a grave, but it looked like what it would be like if Sam grew up normal and not as a hunter. Maybe Dean was trying to make at least some of that a reality for Sam. He knew how much he wanted to be normal...

"It's odd isn't it?"

Sam jumped at the sudden voice. On his left there was a man standing there who was definitely not there before. The man was old- probably in his early eighties. He was overweight and had a smile that could probably warm the coldest of hearts. Sam looked around to see if he was talking to someone other than him, but the older man was definitely smiling at Sam.

"Are you talking to me?" Sam said uncertainly.

"Of course I am!" The older man chuckled. "I don't believe there are currently other people like us in this cemetery." The man looked around. "Don't worry though, they will turn up eventually. But they may not be us friendly as me." The man seemed to enjoy laughing at his own jokes.

Sam couldn't help but smile back. "Don't worry... I know how the dead can act." Sam remarked.

"Oh?" The old man turned to him looking interested. "Are you one of those who are into that paranormal stuff? I do mean no offence, but some of you can be quite distracting coming here with loud instruments and interrupting the dead."The old man looked unhappy at the thought.

"Don't worry, I promise I only came if absolutely necessary."

The old man nodded then some thought seemed to have struck him then slapped his head hard. "I'm sorry! How rude am I?" The man pulled out his hand, "I'm Greg, please forgive me for my rudeness." Greg smiled at him again and Sam couldn't help but liking him. Sam was liking another ghost... who would have thought?

Sam awkwardly took his hand and shook it. "Sam" said Sam simply.

"Sam," Greg repeated as if taking the name in. "Well, Sam, I have to say you are taking this quite well. I have seen many new dead not taking this experience very well that's for sure. Maybe it's your big paranormal experience!" Greg winked at him.

"How can you tell I am new?" asked Sam puzzled, "Do you know every single one of the dead here?"

"Oh goodness, no!" Greg chuckled, "I can just tell after awhile." Greg pointed his head in Sam's grave's general direction. "Starring at your own grave in shock is usually sign pointing in that direction."

"I suppose so..." Sam muttered. "Well, I am mostly just here because of my brother... he is here and I..." Sam paused. 'I just can't seem to leave him." Sam pointed to where Dean was and Greg moved his gaze.

"Is your brother the man frantically moving around that truck with that most frustrating object beeping in his hands?"

Sam laughed. "Yup, that's Dean."

"Huh," Greg seemed to say to himself, "So, you are like me.

Sam suddenly turned his gaze from Dean back to Greg. "What do you mean I am like you?"

Greg put his hand on Sam's shoulder and turned him around to the other side of the cemetery. "Do you see that woman over there? That beautiful woman putting some flowers on that grave?"

Sam looked in that direction and sure enough he saw the woman Greg was talking about. She was elderly like Greg, maybe a tad younger, and she was putting what looked to be lilies all around that grave. If Sam looked closer, it looked like she was talking to the grave. "Yeah, I see her."

"She is singing," Greg told Sam with sadness in his voice which Sam thought didn't seem to suit Greg. "She sings my favourite songs when she visits.

"That's your grave?"

"Yes... and that is my Lily." Greg looked at her with a love with such magnitude that it made Sam feel regret that he would never experience that in his lifetime. "I once told her that when I died she would have to put Lilies over my grave... I said it as a joke... but she has done it every week anyways..."

"But, Greg, how does she make me like you?"

Greg still had his hand on Sam's shoulder and he squeezed it. "Let me try to explain. I may be wrong, in my time out of the living this is what I have been led to believe. As you may know with your... "ghostly" experiences is that many of the dead tend to haunt a place... usually a place where they died or they are usually attached to it. Many are attached to objects- something they had been very close to in their lifetime and wherever the object goes, they go. Now you and me..." Greg stopped to point at Sam and himself," I may be wrong, but we seem to haunt people." Greg suddenly started waving his hands at the look on Sam's face. "Maybe "haunting" is not the right word but please let me continue. We do not... look after places or objects because that is not what we are attached to. When I died... my heart and soul belonged to Lily. And perhaps I am wrong to assume... yours belong to your brother?"

Sam hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

Greg smiled at him. "Yes... I have been following my Lily for awhile now. Some may see it as a mistake but... I cannot seem to let her go."

"Mistake?" Sam stated taken back.

"Well, yes. Sam... do know that we are not supposed to be here. Our place is in the kingdom of Heaven-"

"Oh please don't go there!" Sam snapped. "Believe me Greg, one thing worse than being here is being there."

Greg just nodded. "You are not a believer" he stated matter of factly.

Sam hesitated and thought about his answer then said "yes... and no."

"Fair enough," Greg sighed and put his hands in his pockets. "Do you want to know I am here, Sam?"

Sam just looked at him.

"I am a believer," Greg started, "I've been a good old Christian boy all my life. Went to church every Sunday, did my readings... though, I may have done some things outside of the rules." Greg winked at Sam then continued. "I followed this path everyday so when my time would come... I would go to the kingdom of Heaven." Greg paused as if to study himself. "I was always a healthy man... maybe a tad overweight," Greg gave a sad laugh, "But I was always healthy. Lily always got more sick than I did... I thought- we thought- she would be the one to leave us first. But then one morning I felt an enormous pain I had never felt before. I would later find out that it was a stroke. And then..." Greg snapped his fingers. "That was it for me."

Sam had no idea what to say. "I am sorry..."

Greg waved his hand. "Oh, please don't be!" True to Greg's form, he smiled again. "I am an old man, it was my time and I accept that. But why you may ask did I choose to stay not go where I have always dreamed of going? Well, I am sure you can guess the answer. It's the same reason I believe you decided to stay here."

"You stayed to be with Lily."

Greg nodded. "Lily is a strong woman, she can definitely go on without me and she has proved that. But my death happened so suddenly and I just couldn't bear the thought of leaving her alone..."

"I get it." Replied Sam honestly.

Greg turned to Sam in interest. "So, how about you? I don't mean to overstep my boundaries, but did a young man like you end up here talking to me? Not that I mind your company of course."

Sam hesitated. His story was a complicated one and not exactly one he was comfortable to tell. "I fell through a hole." Sam answered honestly.

Greg looked surprised and waited for Sam to say more but when he didn't he just simply said "well, that could do it. " Greg looked at Sam's grave with deeper concentration than before and then to Sam's surprise, he laughed. "Well, it seems your brother has an interesting sense of humour."

"What do you mean?" Sam gazed over to the truck which Dean was now leaning on it in defeat.

Greg shook his head and pointed to Sam's grave. Sure enough, right under the words that described Sam as a good brother and friend, was a roughly carved word only Dean would write and only Sam would understand: Bitch.

Sam suddenly felt a surge of emotion from just a simple word that he had heard a million times before. And then Sam smiled. He knew how to get Dean to realize he was there.

O-O-O

Dean felt like he was at a loss. He lost Sam, he could barely even keep Lisa and the promise that Sammy made him keep, and now he also couldn't figure out a ghost- the simplest of creatures in the Supernatural world. Was there anything that Dean was actually good at anymore?

Dean turned off his EMF meter. He was constantly beeping and truthfully Dean did not just have the energy to deal with it right now. There was a time when Dean would jump at the idea of any hunt, especially if it was an unusual one, but Dean was not that person anymore. He was hollow shell of that hunter he once was. He lost his other half, so how could anyone expect him to be whole?

Then a sudden wind picked up again, but this time it left Dean at the truck and went immediately to where Sam's grave was, moving all flowers that were around the graves around Sam's in a chilly breeze.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Now Dean was pissed. It was one thing to follow him, to be at Lisa's house, but to mess with Sam's grave? Some ghostie is going to get a salt and burn which Dean would only be too pleased to do so.

Dean stomped to Sam's grave with his shot gun and rock salt in hand. "What? You think this funny? You will see! I will find your sorry dead ass and then-"

Dean dropped the shot gun in shock.

There, underneath the carving Dean made months ago in his grief was the unmistakeable carving of the word "Jerk." It was clear as day and to Dean's bewilderment, it was carved in Sam's hand writing.

Dean took a deep breath then choked out, "Sammy?"

TBC