Dean was deep in the depths of Hell. Sam gave up, he couldn't take life without his brother. Instead of suicide, he attempted to fill his growing black hole with alcohol. Slowly, he was becoming an alcoholic. He was depressed, losing interest in hunting, and even catching up on the latest lore.
One day, as Sam was having a beer, someone burst into the bunker. He looked up, shock took over. Dean was back. After a year of searching and trying to figure out what happened that night, were all for nothing. Dean just appeared in the ground with a hand-shaped burn mark on his shoulder. "Dean?" Sam asked, his eyes filling with tears, threatening to roll down his cheeks. "Yeah, Sammy, it's me." Dean replied, relieved to finally see his brother again. A year in Hell felt like 40 years to Dean. Sam leapt from the couch to Dean and enveloped him in a hug. Dean buried his face in Sam's neck. Finally, he felt calm and at peace. "How?" Sam asked, confused about how Dean was back. "I don't know, Sammy. One minute I'm in Hell, the next I'm digging myself out of the ground." "I'm just happy you're back, and all in one piece." Sam smiled. Slowly, Sam leaned in and softly kissed Dean's lips. Dean quickly kissed him back. Sam smiled within the kiss, but Dean pulled away. "What's wrong? Are you suddenly straight now?" Sam teased. "No, it's just, I've been in Hell for a year, and the first thing you want to do when I come back is kiss me?" Dean smirked. "Shut up!" Sam playfully smacked Dean's arm. "Hey!" Dean yelled as he began to chase Sam around their bunker.
