It's a gentle hand lightly shaking his shoulder that wakes Sam, Jess is standing above him, dressed in a grey shirt and a small pink pair of shorts that he'd bought her the week before.
"It's someone called Bobby..." She says, as his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room he notices that the hand that isn't pressed into his shoulder is held tightly against her chest, slender fingers curled over the hard plastic of his cell phone. She pulls it back from the fabric of her shirt and holds it out.
"I think there's something wrong." She whispers, she looks worried but Sam can't bring himself to comfort her now. There can only be two reasons that Bobby would call him. Sam doesn't really want to think of either.
As he takes the phone from her his fingers brush lightly against her knuckles. He wants to take her hand in his own and tug her down onto the mattress. He wants to pull the duvet up and wrap them both up in a cocoon of warmth until Bobby hangs up
He throws his feet over the side of the bed and stands on legs that feel too weak to be his own. As he presses the phone to his ear he feels Jess give his upper arm a light squeeze before she climbs back into their bed.
"Hello?" His voice is rough, still heavy from sleep. He walks out of their bedroom, across the hall and into the living room.
"Hey Sam, its Bobby, listen son… I've got some bad news." Sam nods. He knows that Bobby can't see him but he doesn't trust himself to speak right now, too many emotions are welling to the surface. He feels weighed down by them. He gulps and knows that Bobby hears it because that's when he continues speaking
"It's your Brother…" Bobby says. Sam can hear the wetness in his voice, knows that Bobby's hurting too. He knows what's coming but knowing doesn't stop the whimper that leaves his throat when Bobby finally says it. Sam takes a seat on one of the two small brown couches that they have, he doesn't want to be standing for this. He grips one arm of the sofa, fingers digging so tightly into the leather that his knuckles are turning white. He knows that he'll rip it, doesn't care because he needs something, something to ground him. He knew this day would come, feared it. He just didn't think that it'd be this soon.
"Shit son, I hate to have to be the one to tell you this." There's a pause, Sam inhales as Bobby exhales. "Sam.. Dean's dead."