Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural 

A/N: This is Bobby's point of view when Dean manages to drag Sam back to his place.

Story Two: Bobby

I must have called Dean at least seven times tonight, and until I heard the familiar roar of the Impala's engine, I genuinely thought he was dead. Scariest hour of my life.

When he came through the door alone, my old heart nearly skipped a beat.

"Sam?" I croaked.

"He's in the car." His voice sounded the same, but his eyes seemed to tell me that he was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders.

So, Sam had killed Lilith then.

"Is he alright? Why ain't he with you?"

"He passed out." Dean looked out the still open door. "He did it Bobby."

"I know." I tried to sound calmer than I felt. The older boy was about ready to go off the deep end, so I reckoned his little brother had already done just that. "How bad?"

"Bad." One word spoke more than a thousand ever could.

Dean turned to look at me once again, and he had never looked more like his father.

There was a shadow over his face, that I knew would only go away if Sam was alright, his eyes were angry and self-hating to the point where I wanted nothing more than to slap the boy. "Dean, it ain't your fault."

"Yes it is." He looked away again and John was gone. Dean changed the subject. "Help me carry him inside, please." He walked out the door and I followed feeling lower than dirt for not being able to take some weight of his shoulders.

I followed him in silence, looking down at my shoes.

"Sam?" I nearly ran into Dean's back as he stopped short.

The youngest Winchester boy was looking at us, holding the Impala's rearview mirror.

"Sorry." Sam's eyes were distant and cloudy. He wasn't completely there.

"How're ya feelin' Sam?" I asked.

His gaze shifted from peaceful insanity into pure anger. "I ended the world Bobby. How do you think I feel?"

"Sam, stop it." Dean said quickly.

"No, he's right. It was a dumb question." I quickly amended. "What are we gonna do about…this."

Sam stopped glaring and smiled at me pleasantly. "I dunno." He walked into the house, still clutching the broken rearview mirror.

Something really was wrong with him, and it hurt to watch.

"We need help Bobby." Dean said before following after his brother. He didn't spare a second glance at his precious "baby", but I did. And I regret it.

Both of the other mirrors were smashed and the passenger door had a dent the size of a pregnant cat, the sight alone had me flabbergasted.

"Right, I'll call Ellen." I called over my shoulder.

I thought about the first time I had ever met Sam, he was three years old, and it disturbs the hell out of me to think that the sweet little boy could do ALL this.

And, I'm not talking about the car.

A/N: I don't know if this one is as good as the last chapter, but I tried. Bobby was harder than I thought to write. The next chapter will be about Ellen, who will be very maternal. Does anyone have ideas about what could happen in hers? Jo is after Ellen's and I have that one pretty much mapped out. So review, no flames please.

Also, let me know if I'm writing Dean right.