Chapter 3
"Hello?"
Bobby turned as a hesitant voice echoed out from a tiny slit at what might be a door leading to the basement. "Who's there?"
"Is it…is it all right to come out now? Is it over?" The door inched open just enough for him to catch a peek of a woman's pale face and dark hair.
"Not yet, ma'am. Please be patient a little while longer." Bobby moved forward cautiously and pushed the door shut. From a pocket, he pulled a small bag of salt and laid a line before the door. If these people were possessed this would keep them down there, and if not, it would keep them safe.
A large, well oiled grandfather clock showed the time at thirteen past midnight. As he continued down the way, he caught the faint smell of sulfur and something else. The sulfur might be part of the goofer dust they'd prepared earlier to try to grant Dean some protection from any hellhounds, but it could also be a sign of demonic manifestations. Neither would be a particularly good sign. Especially not as he spied the open door farther down the way. Even less as he realized the other smell mixing with the sulfur in the air was the scent of spilled, coagulating blood.
Despite himself, Bobby found his steps slowing the closer he came to the open entryway. Unwanted, a flash of his wife's bleeding, stabbed body rose up to haunt him. The minor demon's amused laughter at what he drove Bobby to do rang in his ears with her voice just before it released her body, leaving him to drip with horror and grief as his wife took her last breath in his trembling arms, the bloody knife he'd used to stop her from killing him on the floor beside him.
He'd seen his share of bodies over the years. But nothing ever prepared you to view the ones of people you knew. Would he be finding another one belonging to those who lived here? With any luck it would be the corpse of the one Lilith was inhabiting when she was destroyed. Or would it be one or both of the boys?
"Sam? Dean?" He wasn't sure if his voice shook or not. Looking past that door was proving to be one of the hardest things he'd ever done – especially after spotting the broken line of goofer dust on the other side of it.
The sight that met his hesitant, rising gaze would be imprinted in his mind forever.
Sam's right side was before him in the center of the room, his body bent almost double, his face hidden, cradling the body of his brother, rocking back and forth.
Blood spread from the two of them, already turning a brownish color. He could see where Dean's left leg had been clawed or mauled, the skin and muscle beneath torn into bloody strips.
"Sam?"
The youngest Winchester shook his head but said nothing. The rocking of his body grew in speed, his arms wrapping more tightly about his brother's body.
As Bobby slowly stepped further into the room and to the side, he caught a glimpse of Dean's slack face and open, staring eyes and knew instantly that he was dead.
He felt his knees grow weak and only through a herculean effort was he able to keep to his feet. Though they'd known it was coming, though they'd had little to no hope of success, the fact they'd lost still came as a blow.
While he'd never known anyone with as low a sense of self esteem or value as Dean, he'd also never known anyone more full of life, gumption, and love than this young man. Whether he'd wanted it or not, the boy had wormed his way into his heart, especially after he'd seen him so broken when Sam had died in his arms. That he'd stupidly sold his own soul to bring his baby brother back and given himself only a year to live had only pushed the kid in his heart that much deeper. And now he was gone – leaving a giant open hole where Dean had once been.
"Sam… Lilith's gone… The other demons are gone…" He had to swallow hard to get the next set of words out. "We need to go."
The boy finally looked up at him for the first time. His brother's blood coated his clothes, arms and face, the last making him appear as if he'd been shedding red tears. Bobby couldn't hold back an indrawn breath at the sight of Dean's torn chest, but more so at the totally blank expression on Sam's face, at the dead eyes that didn't appear to even see him.
"Why?" Sam's voice was raw.
Bobby wasn't sure of the subject of the question, though he had a pretty good idea which it probably was. He decided to take the safe choice instead. "Because we don't want to be around when the cops come to ask questions. We also don't want to be here in case those demons decide they want to come back."
"They won't."
Bobby shivered, the cold certainty in Sam's tone covered by what almost sounded like disappointment. It made his skin break out in goose flesh. "Yeah, well, you know me. Better safe than sorry." He took a step closer, again angling to the side, trying to avoid the blood spread across the floor. Both Winchesters had hazel eyes, but though one was dead and the other was still alive, both stares at the moment were too close for his liking. He didn't think he could handle too much of one for any length of time, let alone two.
Gingerly, keeping his gaze glued to Sam the whole time, Bobby squatted down by Dean's head. Very, very slowly, he reached out with his right hand, and still watching the younger Winchester for any signs of protest or rage, he closed Dean's eyes.
Though he wasn't watching him, Sam gave a long sigh when Bobby was done, almost as if he'd been released now that Dean's dead gaze was no longer on him. Sam's chin quivered momentarily, his eyes closing for a moment, then went still.
This was no easier to watch than the horrid minutes after Sam had died in Dean's arms back in Cold Oaks. That Sam got brought back so Bobby would get to witness the other side go through the same hell wasn't something he would have ever wished for. "Tell you what. Why don't I go and find something to wrap him in? Then I can leave you to it while I talk to the folks in the basement. Get some kind of story going to cover our tracks. All right?"
Sam only sighed again and said nothing. Bobby had no choice but to assume it was a yes.
He left the room a lot faster than it had taken him to enter it and was glad of it. But he also knew it was probably only a taste of things to come.
