"Hey Dean." Bobby started.

"Hey Bobby, what's up? Got a lead on a demon we need to send back to hell?" Dean asked with a laugh. Albeit the laugh was nervous.

Pretty soon Dean was going to be in the same place he was sending all of these demons. He wasn't sure what scared him more, leaving Sam alone, being alone in hell, or being alone in hell surrounded by demons that he had personally sent back there. Those demons weren't going offer him a beer and ask him to pull up a chair and tell them what they had missed since they had last been topside. Nope. More than likely they were or already had devised numerous ways to torture him. Ways that were probably inconceivable to the mere mortal.

Sometimes, he laid awake at nights trying to come up with all of the various things that the demons would or could do to him. One night, his imagination had conjured up images of demons coming at him, while he was chained to a wall, fastened so tightly that he wasn't even able to move enough to squirm, and with dull scissors the demons would cut off his fingers one by one, followed up with his arms being pulled until his skin ripped like a plastic bag that had been pulled to hard. The sounds that came with the images were just as bad if not worse than the actual images themselves. He had no idea that his imagination was nearly this vivid. The images kept coming unbidden and he had been unable to stop the horrors from coming to the forefront of his mind. The images had been so vivid and disturbing it had led to him throwing up the entire contents of his stomach and sitting on the floor of a dingy motel bathroom sweating. Sam had come in the bathroom, starred at him, asked if was okay, and Dean had replied that he had drank too much. Both of them had pretended to forget that Dean hadn't had a drop of alcohol all night.

Now, with his time on Earth limited to three weeks, 2 days and 12 hours, he found himself in an almost perpetual state of anxiety. He had all but given up food because every time he ate his stomach rejected it. He managed to eat just enough for Sam not to be to suspicious. But Sam wasn't eating much of anything lately either.

Dean watched Sam sit at the computer, day in and day out, frantically trying to find some way to save his brother and all Dean could think was, 'I have so many things to tell you, to teach you. I don't have time! Why did I waste so much time? Why didn't I call you at school and tell you these things? Why didn't I make the effort?' But neither made the effort to say the things that needed said. They just said the necessary things, they just talked about hunts and dinner and the things that they always talked about. In it's own way it was hell.

Dean sincerely hoped that Bobby wasn't calling with a hunt. He didn't want to hunt anything anymore. He wanted to stay with Sam and just have the opportunity to sit around with his brother and watch crap TV, eat crap food that neither of them would be able to keep down, and listen to his brother's quiet breathing as he slept in the bed on the other side of the room.

"No, Dean. I don't have any kind of lead for you. I was just wonderin' if…well…" Bobby was having more trouble saying this than he thought he would. He took a breath and tried again. "I was just wonderin' if you and Sam would consider stayin' here until you know…they come for you." Bobby closed his eyes after he said the end of that sentence. The thoughts of anything coming after Dean and taking him away from them all just gave him the willies.

Dean, on his end, was taken aback. He figured he would spend his last days on earth with Sam in a crappy hotel room. The thought that anyone would want him around, besides Sam, had never really and truly crossed his mind. It made sense, Bobby was like a second father to them, but Dean had become so used to being ignored by father figures that he didn't think about Bobby wanting to spend time with him before he was sent to Hell.

"Bobby, you sure? I mean, you don't want to watch that." Dean said softly.

"No I don't. But, son, I would like to have you here. I want you here. I don't want you to be alone."

"I have Sam." Dean had no idea why he was trying to talk Bobby out of the invitation.

"Sam will need someone when you are gone." Bobby said quietly. The comment Sam made last year, God was it really a year ago, about his selfishness came to the forefront of his mind. He had claimed he was entitled to it. He was entitled to a bout of selfishness from time to time, but selfish in the sense that he used the last of the soap without telling Sam, or eating the last of the cereal, or using the last of the hot water, or spending his money on a beer instead of cough syrup. Dean had taken his brother out of Stanford, where he had made friends and had a support system, made him follow him all over God's green Earth and isolated him to the point where Sam's only friend was Dean and now Dean was going to take that away from Sam. He swallowed hard. Selfish didn't even begin to describe what he was. The least he could do for Sam was to go to Bobby's and allow Sam the comfort of another person when he was taken by the Hell hounds.

"Okay. We'll pack up today and be there sometime tomorrow. I'll call when we are close."

"Thanks Dean."

"Why are you thanking me? I owe you."

"It is an honor to get to be with you in your last moments." Dean suppressed tears and tried desperately to find a smart ass comment to come back with. This conversation suddenly became way too heavy for him.

"See you tomorrow Bobby.'

"See you then Dean." Dean hung up before Bobby did. Bobby thanked God that using Sam would work. Bobby sighed and dialed his phone.

"Noah, It's set up, they'll be here."

Thank you guys for reading this chapter. Please review. It lets me know what I'm doing right…and what I can do better!