Hello, fellow fanatics! Just a small little note about what all I'm doing here. I've written a few Supernatural oneshots before, including Leprechauns and Hangovers, but the more I watch this wonderful series, the more I've been wanting to start an actual story. I won't ask you to go easy on me because this isn't my first story. Though, it'll probably be one of my better ones! Please, no flames. If you don't like something, then I'd prefer you use constructive criticism.
This story takes place during season 4, and although I'll follow the season as much as possible, I might not use every episode. Instead, I might come up with a few different things to throw in here. Fair warning: it takes me a long time to finish chapters and post them. Hopefully, that won't be too much of a problem considering the fact that I love coming up with ideas for this particular story. So, without further ado, I present the very first chapter of Holding On To Heaven!

Chapter One - Lazarus Rising

"Amy?"

I turned around, glaring at the owner of the voice: my older brother, Sam Winchester.

"Amy, I—"

Smack.

He raised a hand in shock to his now reddening cheek.

"Samuel Winchester!" He flinched back a bit when I started yelling. "How dare you track me down after what you did, you…you fucking asshole!"

His eyes widened at the vulgar words.

"Damn, Sammy. You must've really pissed her off if she's cussing you out in American terms."

I stiffened. No. There's no bloody way he's here. That's absolutely impossible.

But when I looked over, I saw not only Bobby, but my oldest brother, too. Dean Winchester, who was supposed to be rotting away in Hell.

My hunting instincts kicked in, and I lunged forward to attack. Sam, however, had been expecting that and had his arms locked around my waist in an instant.

"It's him, Amy," he said softly.

Bobby nodded. "He's right, Red. We've already tested everything."

I looked at my brother once more.

"Dean?" I asked, my voice breaking.

He gave me a soft smile. "It's really me, Aims."

Tears started flowing down my face as I ran to him, sobbing. He didn't hesitate to pull me into his arms.

"Shh, it's all right, Aims," he whispered into my ear while rubbing my back. "I'm here. I'm here."

We stayed like that for a few moments, until:

"Hey, hoes, what's up?"

I laughed slightly and wiped my eyes before I turned to my best friend.

"Sorry that I kinda ditched you, Blair."

She laughed and ruffled my hair. "It's all right, sweetie!"

Then she looked at the boys, grinning.

"Sammy!" She launched herself into his arms.

"Hey Blair," he said, chuckling and hugging her.

She pulled back, her grin fading, and slapped him.

"That's for not telling me you were leaving," she said angrily.

I giggled a bit at the confused look on his face as Blair gave Bobby a big hug.

Finally, she turned to Dean and punched his arm, hard.

"What the hell was that for?" Dean asked, scowling as he rubbed his arm.

She glared at him. "You're an ass! You've been back this whole time, and you never thought to call me or Amy? I mean, what the hell, man? Why—"

"Blair!" She stopped midrant and looked over at Bobby. "He only just got out today, ya idgit."

A large, bright smile spread across her face. "Oh! Okay!"

She turned to Dean once more. "Good to see you again, hun," she said, patting his cheek affectionately, causing him to roll his eyes.

He glanced at me and motioned for me to move forward. When I did, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"You wanna tell us why you're so mad at Sam?" he asked softly.

I sighed. "Not here," I said firmly. "Let's get back to the motel first."

As soon as we had locked the motel room door, Dean gave me a look.

I held up my hands in surrender. "All right, all right." I took a deep breath and looked around at them all. The only person who was not looking at me expectantly was Sam. He seemed to be avoiding my gaze, and a guilty expression was on his face.

"Well, it was really hard on us all when you…you know.." Dean nodded understandingly, and I continued, "I was hoping Sam and I would go off and hunt together. You know, be each other's strength or something. But not too long after, Sam took off. No note, no explanation." My eyes started to fill with tears that refused to spill over. "I tried calling him for weeks, but he never answered, and at one point, I started hunting on my own, thinking I would run into him. Instead, I ran into Blair, and we've stuck together since."

It was pretty silent once I'd finished. Then Dean turned to Sam with a murderous look on his face. "You left her all by herself?"

Sam flinched.

"I thought—I thought she'd be all right if she was with Bobby," he stammered. "Dean, you gotta understand. It wasn't easy for me to cope—"

"And you think it was for her?" Dean yelled. "She's our baby sister, Sam! She needed you, and you just left her!"

Sam's eyes widened. "I didn't mean to! I just—"

He was cut off again when Dean charged forward and punched him.

"Save it," Dean growled before storming out the door. After I gave them both a look, Bobby and Blair went after him.

I walked over to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth to soak with cold water. Sam kept his gaze on the floor as I slowly sat down in front of him. I gently lifted his chin and dabbed lightly at his bleeding nose with the cloth.

"I'm sorry, Amy," he said quietly. "I'm so, so sorry."

I shrugged. "It's no big deal."

He grabbed my wrist, stopping me, and stared directly into my eyes. "Yes, it is. I'm your brother, I should've been there for you."

I smiled softly. "Well, you came back," I said, dabbing at the blood once more. "That means a lot, Sam."

"Even so, I won't leave again, Amy. I promise."

The stars shone overhead as Sam, Dean, and I drove down a two-lane road later that night. I glanced at my brothers from the backseat, smiling. They were back in their familiar places, Dean driving and Sam relaxing in the passenger seat. It was like that night had never happened. I was pulled out of my thoughts when Dean spoke, "There's still one thing that bothers me."

Sam looked over at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, the night that I bit it." He smirked. "Or…got bit," he added, chuckling. I rolled my eyes. "How'd you two make it out? I thought Lilith was going to kill both of you."

Sam sighed. "Well, she tried, but...she couldn't."

"What do you mean she couldn't?" Dean asked, confused.

"She fired this, like, burning light at Sam, and," I paused before continuing, "And it didn't even leave a scratch."

Sam nodded. "It was like I was immune or something."

"Immune?"

"Yeah. I don't know who was more surprised, her or me and Amy."

Silence.

"And what about you, Aims?"

I smirked. "I roughed up a bit. You know, threw a punch here and there."

He stared at me for a moment. "Sam?"

"She left pretty fast after she found out she couldn't attack me."

"Sam!" I scowled. "Jerk."

"Huh," Dean said, ignoring me. "What about Ruby? Where is she?"

I noticed Sam shift lightly in his seat. "Dead," he said quietly. "For now."

Dean bit his lip, something I knew he did when he had a question he didn't want to say aloud.

I sighed. "What is it, Dean?"

It was Dean's turn to shift around uncomfortably. "I just wondered...You've been using you're freaky ESP stuff, huh, Sam?"

"No." Sam's answer was immediate.

Dean gave him a skeptical look. "You sure about that?"

"What on Earth are you talking about?" I asked.

"Well, I mean, now that he's got...immunity, whatever the hell that is...just wondering what other kind of weirdo crap he's got going on."

"Nothing, Dean," Sam said, becoming irritated. "Look, you didn't want me to go down that road, so I didn't go down that road. It was practically you're dying wish."

My heart ached at the memory of Dean's death. "Good job, Sammy," I said quickly. "Now can we stop talking about this. Please?"

They nodded.

"But one more thing," Dean said. "Sam? Let's keep it that way."

Sam scowled, nodding, and was silent for the rest of the trip.

"You knock."

"No way, man. Honour's all yours."
"Oh, for Christ's sake, move." I shoved past my bickering brothers to give three strong raps on the door.

A beautiful woman in her thirties opened the door with a ready smile.

"Bobby!" she exclaimed, grabbing him in a hug and lifting off the ground for a brief moment.

I looked at Sam and Dean in shock. She is one strong woman..

Bobby patted her on the back. "You're a sight for sore eyes," he commented with a smile.

The woman stepped back, analyzing me, Sam, and Dean. It was hard to miss the appraising looks she gave my brothers.

"So, these the ones you've been telling me about?" she asked Bobby.

He nodded. "Sam, Dean, Amy. This is Pamela Barnes, best damn psychic in the state."

Dean gave Pamela his signature smirk. "Hey."

"Hi," Sam said awkwardly.

I rolled my eyes. "Hiya, Pamela," I said, smiling.

Pamela eyed Dean. "Mmm-mmm-mmm. Dean Winchester. Out of the fire and back in the frying pan, huh? Makes you a rare individual."

Dean chuckled. "If you say so."

I tried not to laugh at the look on my brother's face.

"Come on in."

I entered the house behind Pamela and Bobby, followed shortly by Sam and Dean.

"So, Pamela," Bobby started.

"Hm?"

"You hear anything?"

She sighed. "Well, I Ouija'd my way through a dozen spirits. No one seems to know who broke your boy out, or why."

"So, what's next?"

"A séance," I interrupted. Everyone stared at me. "What? I know things."

"She's right," Pamela said, giving me a grin. "See if we can see who did the deed."

Bobby looked incredulous. "You're not gonna...summon the damn thing here."

"I just want to get a sneak peek at it," Pamela admitted.

"Like a crystal ball without a crystal?" I asked.

"Exactly."

"I'm game," Dean said.

I helped Pamela prepare by spreading a black tablecloth covered in symbols over a small table as she got something out of one of the cabinets.

"Who's Jesse?" Dean asked. I looked over to see him referring to her tattoo. I shook my head. Oh, brother.

Pamela laughed. "Well, it wasn't forever."

"His loss."

She stood, several pillar candles in hand, and stopped in front of Dean, smirking.

"Might be your gain."

I made my way to my brothers, walking past Pamela as she went to set the candles on the table.

"Dude, I am so in," Dean whispered.

Sam snorted. "Yeah, she's gonna eat you alive."

"Hey, I just got out of jail. Bring it."

Pamela walked by once more.

"You're invited too, grumpy," she said, shooting Sam a wink.

Once she was out of earshot, Dean turned to Sam.

"You are not invited."

It wasn't long before Pamela, Bobby, Sam, Dean, and I were seated around the small table, with six lighted candles in the centre.

"Right," Pamela said in a low voice. "Take each others hands."

I shrugged and grabbed Sam and Bobby's hands.

"And I need to touch something our mystery monster touched."

Her hand slid under the table and after a second, Dean jumped.

"Whoa," he said, flustered. "Well, he didn't touch me there."

Pamela gave him a smirk. "My mistake."

Dean looked around the table nervously before taking off his outer shirt and pulling up his left t-shirt sleeve, exposing his upper arm. A large, raw welt in the shape of a handprint was branded into his shoulder. Sam and I stared at it, gaping.

"Dean-"

"Later, Amy."

I hesitated. I so badly wanted to know who—or what—had done that to my brother, but the look Dean gave me told me that now was not the time.

Pamela lay her hand on the brand and began to chant: "I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle."

After three times, the television flicked on to static, but she kept chanting.

"I invoke, conjure, and command...Castiel?" she paused, and my heart fluttered at the name. What in the world? "No. Sorry, Castiel, I don't scare easy."

"Castiel?" Dean asked.

"Its name. It's whispering to me, warning me to turn back."

"Then maybe we should listen to him!" I shouted as the static continued and the tables started to shake.

She ignored me. "I conjure and command you, show me your face. I conjure and command me, show me your face."

The shaking became more violent, and a high-pitched wailing noise filled the air.

"Maybe we should stop," Bobby said, worriedly.

"I almost got it! I command you, show me your face! Show me your face now!"

All of a sudden, the candles flared up several feet, and Pamela began to scream. Her eyes, filled with white-hot flame, opened before she collapsed and fell. Bobby caught her before she could hit the ground.

"Call 9-1-1!" he yelled.

Sam scrambled out of his chair as Dean and I crouched over Bobby and Pamela. She was bleeding and burned, but thankfully conscious.

Her eyes flew open, revealing empty, black sockets.

"I can't see!" she screamed. "I can't see! Oh god!"

An ambulance siren wailed in the distance.

The next day, Dean and I sat solemnly in Johnny Mac's Diner.

"And I'll just have a burger," I told the waitress once she took Dean's order. "No tomato or onion, though, please."

She quickly wrote it down and smiled.

"Be up in a jiff," she said, walking off.

The bell chimed, and we looked over to see Sam walking toward us on his cell.

"You bet," he said into the mic. He hung up and slumped next to me.

"What'd Bobby say?" Dean asked softly.

Sam sighed. "Pamela's stable. And she's out of I.C.U."

"And blind, because of us."

I started to protest, but Sam cut me off. "And we still have no clue who we're dealing with."

"That's not entirely true."

Sam and I stared at Dean. "No?"

"We got a name," Dean said, leaning back. "Castiel, or whatever. With the right mumbo-jumbo we could summon him, bring him right to us." He paused and turned his gaze to me. "By the way, Aims, how in the hell did you know this Castiel-thing is a he?"

"Uh, I don't?"

"Dean, you're crazy," Sam said, swiftly changing the subject. "We are not going to summon this thing."

"We'll work him over. I mean, after what he did?"

Sam looked to me for help.

"Dean," I said, "Pam took a peek at him—a peek—, and her eyes burned out of her skull, and you want to have a face-to-face?"

"You got a better idea?"

"I've got a million better ideas!"

"I have one," Sam said calmly. "I followed some demons to town, right?"

"Okay," Dean said, somewhat confused.

"So, we go find them," Sam explained. "Someone's gotta know something about something."

Our waitress returned with three slices of pie.

"Thanks," Sam said politely.

I stared at my slice.

Dean gave me a funny look. "You okay, Aims?"

"What the bloody hell is this?" I said, pissed off. "This is definitely not a burger! What right foul git made me this?"

"Oh, not again," Dean said as Sam groaned and smacked his forehead on the table.

The waitress pulled up a chair at the end of our table and plopped down on it.

Dean smirked. "You angling for a tip?"

"'Cause ya ain't getting one," I added venomously.

"I'm sorry," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Thought you were looking for us."

We froze as she blinked, her eyes going demon-black for a moment. I glanced around the room. A uniformed man and the cook behind the counter showed the demon-black briefly as well. The former went to the door, locking in it with a click, before standing in front of it.

It was the waitress' turn to smirk as her eyes went back to normal. She glanced at my brother.

"Dean," she said coolly, "To Hell and back. Aren't you a lucky duck."

"That's me."

She glared at him. "So you just get to stroll out of the pit, huh? Tell me. What makes you so special?"

"I like to think it's because of my perky nipples," he said, smirking. He winced as I smacked the back of his head, muttering, "Inappropriate, bro." He sighed. "I don't know. Wasn't my doing. I don't know who pulled me out."

She scoffed. "Right. You don't."

"No. I don't."

"Lying's a sin, you know."

"For the last bleedin' time, he doesn't bloody know, you gormless bint!" I blurted out.

Everyone stared at me, causing me to glare at them all.

"Hey, I'm still bloody ticked that I didn't get me bleedin' burger, so excuse me if I'm a wee bit mardy."

Dean just blinked at me and turned back to the waitress. "I'm not lying," he insisted. "But I'd like to find out, so if you wouldn't mind enlightening me, Flo—"

"Mind your tone with me, boy," she spat. "I'll drag you back to Hell myself."

I made a move to lunge forward, as did Sam, but Dean held up a hand. Sam stopped immediately, and locked his arms around my waist when I didn't. I scowled at my brothers. "Killjoys," I muttered.

Dean leaned back in his seat. "No, you won't," he said to the waitress.

"No?"

"No," he said confidently. "Because if you were you would have done it already. Fact is, you don't know who cut me loose. And you're just as spooked as we are. And you're looking for answers. Well, maybe it was some turbo-charged spirit. Or some big bad boss demon."

"Or Godzilla," I said seriously, earning myself three strange looks. "What? It could happen!"

"Right," Dean said slowly. "Anyway, I'm at your pay grade that they don't tell you squat. Because whoever it was, they want me out. And they're a lot stronger than you. So go ahead. Send me back. But don't come crawling back to me when they show up on your doorstep with some Vaseline and a fire hose."

The demon glared. "I'm going to reach down your throat and rip out your lungs," she growled venomously.

Dean leaned forward, a challenge in his eyes. He punched her, twice, causing her to look more nervous than angry.

"That's what I thought," he said, standing up. "Let's go, Aims, Sam."

We started toward the door when he stopped, and dropped a ten dollar bill on the table as if it were an insult.

"For the pie."

We quickly stalked out of the diner and across the street.

"Holy crap," Dean said. "That was close."

"You shouldn't have provoked them, ya git."

Sam gave us a shocked look. "We're not just going to leave them in there, are we?"

"Sam, there was three of them, probably more, and we've only got one knife," I said.

"I've been killing a lot more demons than that lately."

"Not anymore," Dean said darkly. "The smarter brother is back in town."

I snorted. "Oh, please. I'm ten times smarter than the two of you put together!"

Dean mock scowled, put me in a headlock, and proceeded to give me several noogies.

"Dean," Sam started, regaining Dean's attention, "We've got to take 'em. They are dangerous."

"They're scared, okay? Scared of whatever had the juice to yank me out. We're dealing with a bad mofo here. One job at a time."

Later that evening, I was roughly awakened by Dean, who was clutching a shotgun in one hand and covering his ear with the other. I suddenly became aware of the painfully high-pitched whining and clamped my own hands over my now-bleeding ears. We crumpled to the ground as all the glass in the motel room shattered explosively. My vision began to get fuzzy, and the last thing I heard was Dean screaming and Bobby yelling before everything went black.

I awoke in the backseat of the Impala and saw Bobby driving as Dean wiped blood from his face. Dean turned to me with a relieved smile when he saw I was awake. His lips moved, forming words, but for some reason, I couldn't hear a thing. He frowned when I didn't respond, and I pointed to my ears. He nodded and patted my leg before turning back around and pulling out his phone while I fell asleep once more.

I watched fascinated as Bobby covered the warehouse's walls, ceiling, and floors with intricate symbols. Since I was still pretty much deaf and wouldn't be very good at following instructions, I just sat on one of the old work desks in the warehouse. Dean walked over to me and handed me a sawed-off shotgun.

He turned and said something to Bobby, who had just finished drawing a symbol with white spray paint on the cement floor.

Bobby got to his feet slowly, inspecting his work. He looked over at Dean, his lips forming words. By the look on his face, I guessed he was trying to talk Dean out of his plan. He eventually nodded reluctantly before he walked over to another desk with two bowls. He took a pinch of some powder from the smaller bowl and sprinkled it into the larger one, making it smoke as he began to chant.

A few moments later, we were all sitting on the desks, Dean and I having a small foot war. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dean turn and say something to Bobby, who gave him a look. I rolled my eyes.

Suddenly, the roof started rattling and shaking like crazy. I couldn't hear it, but I could damn well feel it. We jumped to our feet, shotguns in hand, and positioned ourselves at the far end of the warehouse. I snorted when Dean not-so-subtly pushed me behind him.

The door burst open, and I peered around Dean to see the most beautiful man I'd ever laid eyes on. He didn't seem very tall, probably an inch or so shorter than Dean, with thick, messy, dark hair and piercing blue eyes. I frowned in confusion when I noticed he was wearing a business suit and a tan trench coat.

The hell?

He stalked toward us, and the light bulbs overhead shattered in a shower of sparks as he passed them. Dean and Bobby both opened fire upon the man, and I raised my gun to do the same, but something in my gut told me not to. The rounds didn't seem to have any effect anyway. Dean slowly slid the demon knife into his hand behind his back as he said something to the man.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition." The man's rough voice rang out in my head.

I stared at him incredulously. How the hell can I hear him but not anything else?

I was pulled out of my thoughts when I saw Dean rear forward and plunge the knife into the man's chest. The man looked down at it, unconcerned, and pulled it out with ease, dropping it to the floor. Bobby tried to attack him with a crowbar, but the man simply turned around and pressed his fingers to Bobby's forehead, causing him to crumple to the ground.

The man turned to me, hand raised, but Dean stepped in front of me. He moved away after a moment, and the man touched my temple. I hissed in pain as my ability to hear came rushing back. The man raised his hand again.

"Wait!" I cried, making him stop. I stuck out my hand. "Amarantha Winchester. You can call me Amy."

He didn't even blink, let alone shake my hand. "Castiel."

I nodded, smiling, and carefully lay down on the ground. "Okay, continue."

Then he touched my forehead, and for the third time that day, darkness consumed me.

(Dean's POV)

Dean knelt down and checked Bobby's pulse quickly before moving on to Amy.

"Your friends are alive."

His fist clenched. "Who are you?" he asked the man in a venomous tone.

"Castiel."

"Yeah, I figured that much, I mean what are you?"

"I am an Angel of the Lord."

Angel my ass. "Get the hell out of here," Dean growled. "There's no such thing."

Castiel sighed. "This is your problem, Dean," he said monotonously. "You have no faith."

Lighting flashed suddenly, and great, shadowy wings appeared on his back, stretching off into the distance. Dean took a step back in shock as the light and image disappeared.

He scowled. "Some angel you are. You burned out that poor woman's eyes!"

"I warned her not to spy on my true form," Castiel clarified. "It can be…overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice. But you already knew that."

Dean gave him an incredulous look. "You mean the gas station and the motel. That was you talking?" Castiel nodded. "Buddy, next time, lower the volume. My baby sister went friggin' deaf because of you."

Castiel looked apologetic. "That was my mistake," he said. "Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you and your sister would be some of them. I was wrong."

"And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?"

Castiel looked down at himself and tugged on his trench coat. "This? This…is a vessel."

"You're possessing some poor bastard?" Dean asked, darkly.

"He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this," Castiel tried to explain.

Dean shook his head stubbornly. "Well, I'm not buying what you're selling. And what the hell did you do to Amy and Bobby?"

"I did not harm them. I merely knocked them out." The angel looked over at Amy, and Dean could've swore that his gaze had softened. "My orders were to speak with you alone."

"Who are you really?" Dean asked, scrutinizing him.

Castiel looked a bit confused. "I told you."

"Right," Dean said sarcastically. "And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"

"Good things do happen, Dean," Castiel said with a tiny smile.

Dean shook his head again. "Not in my experience."

The angel frowned. "What's the matter? You don't think you deserve to be saved?"

"Why'd you do it?"

"Because God commanded it," Castiel said seriously. "Because we have work for you."

Okay, I want your all's opinion. Was it good enough that I should continue? Or was it so god awful that I should just quit now? Lemme know!

~A Fever You Can't Sweat Out