He'd been ready to die. He'd been ready for a while, really, though Sam would probably not have said so to anybody else. Not that he wanted to leave his brother behind, but he'd felt for years that something was missing. Not just since he'd come back from Hell, but a bit before that.

Again, he couldn't have told anybody when or exactly what was missing, but he knew it wasn't there.

So, when he felt something trying to pull him back, Sam fought. He did his best to push it away, though it was insistent. And even with the amount of power behind the pull, he might have managed. Had he not heard Jess's voice.

It surprised him long enough for Gabriel to get a good hold and haul him in, Sam's body jerking as he pulled in a deep breath, eyes blinking open sluggishly. He found himself looking up at Jess, Gabriel's hand on his forehead and, for a long few moments, memories crossed that he shouldn't have remembered at all.

"Was it the bandits again?" he asked, brow furrowing. And not realizing that he'd spoken in perfect Latin.