Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

That, Being Dead, We Rise

She ran. Bobby pulls the curtains aside and peers out the window overlooking his front porch for what feels like the hundredth time. His front porch remains vacant. Frustrated, he sighs, scratching at his beard, and returns to his previous spot on the couch. For once, he has no idea what to do next, he wonders if things could possibly get anymore messed up. He could go after Aidan, although he knows she wants to be left alone to deal with her self-proclaimed failure. When she had first come back to this world, she had been furious like he'd never seen her before, but as she relayed the events to Bobby; her anger had quickly faded, replaced awkwardly by fear. Fear that he would hate her for not saving him, for not figuring it all out earlier, for not being good enough. Fear that he would hate her for what she had become, what she had unleashed to find him. Despite Bobby's numerous protests to the contrary, she ran, his heart bleeding for her.

He can't say he isn't scared for her. These last few months, loosing Dean had broken his heart, but dealing with Aidan had terrified him. He had tried to pass it off as nightmares for the first few weeks, but every time Hell came into his home the truth came closer and closer. He couldn't lose her too. She was all he had now and he would have her back as long as his heart beat. He just hoped that he told her that enough.

No, he would let her calm down for a few days before trying to reach out to her again. He picks up a book off the coffee table; maybe some research will take his mind off of current events. His calloused hands run lightly over the cover of the black leather-bound book, running a thumb over the worn gold-edged pages. He stops when he reads the title of the book: Holy Bible. He throws the book back down onto the table and gets up to retrace his earlier path, pacing across the living room floor. He could call Sam. He has no idea where the youngest Winchester is, he isn't sure he wants to know. Another name to add to the list of people blaming themselves for not being able to save Dean; right up there along with Robert Singer.

He makes his way to the window again, and just like before, his front yard is empty. He knows Aidan won't be around anytime soon, and Sam would only see his place as a last resort. In the brief times that he is honest with himself, he knows that he's waiting for Dean. He got the call about an hour ago, his breath catching in his throat as he hung up on the familiar voice, his heart breaking again. He doesn't want to allow himself to feel hope, but he can't help it. Dean. She had said she thought he was alive, and Bobby clings to her words in a desperation that he's only felt once, years ago.

Bobby doesn't know how long it's been since the call, he lost track of time pacing the floor. What will he do if it turns out to be true? He doesn't want to think about what he'll do if it doesn't. Maybe…maybe this aching sorrow can finally be quelled. No! He can't allow himself to hope. His heart stops with the knock at his door. It feels like an eternity before he can force his feet to cross the floor, even longer before he can get his hand to the handle.

"Surprise."

***

They ride in the darkness, following Bobby to their next lead. This psychic is supposed to be one of the best. Neither brother has been willing to break the uncomfortable silence that has enveloped the car, both content to hold on to the secrets they hide. Dean steals a glance at Sam, who is staring out into the night beyond. He's lying. Dean knows this, it's only been four months, but his brother is barely a resemblance of the man he left behind, a stronger, darker shadow of the man he once was.

"You ok Sammy?"

"Yeah, why?" Sam's looking at him now, and Dean didn't miss the glimmer of guilt that crossed his face when he turned his eyes from the window.

"Just wonderin' what's got you so quiet. Got anything you need to tell me?" An invitation, even if it is followed by a chick flick moment.

"No. Kinda still in shock."

"You sure you're ok?"

"Dean, I'm fine." Liar. The older man returns his eyes to the road, his brotherly instincts screaming in his head. Liar. Neither of them anywhere near 'fine', but they'll both play the part as long as they can. Dean hates the distance that's grown between them, hates Lilith for sending him to Hell, hates Hell for…for everything…hates himself for failing. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Her thoughts in his head. He forces that train of thought from his mind before anymore can become of it, glaring at the road in front of him. Sam doesn't miss his knuckles, white on the steering wheel.

***

As soon as the man…angel disappears, Dean hears Bobby coming to behind him. Spinning, he goes to the older hunter's side, helping his friend to his feet.

"What the hell happened? Who was that?"

"I don't know…I think…he said he was an angel." Bobby frowns, staring at the younger man who still seems to be in shock…or awe. An angel. Who pulled Dean out of Hell. "Castiel."

"What?! How did you know that?" Dean's staring at him now, his eyes focused, hard. He hadn't realized he said it out loud. Castiel, the angel who pulled Dean out of Hell, right out of Aidan's arms.

"Bobby!"

"Aidan said he saved you." Bobby watches as his jaw clenches at the name, his eyes turning cold. Dean doesn't say a word.

"Do you remember it? Do you remember her there?" Dean looks away, turning his back to the older man, all the confirmation Bobby needs. Dean can't face him, remorse raging through his heart. He remembers her there to save him, remembers the things he whispered in her ear, corrupt and vile things, things he knew would tear her down. But still she held him, tightly until he became more like Dean Winchester and less like…them. And them he was pulled out of her arms, and out of Hell. But not before he saw the fire in her eyes.

"What was she doing there?" Dean has turned back but still keeps his eyes downcast.

"Finding you."

"I gathered. How?"

"Turns out Azazel had his sights on her too."

"Like Sam." He sees Bobby's grim smile, wishes he could see her.

"You need to call her."

"I can't Bobby…she'll hate me." His voice is small, voicing his fears doing nothing to alleviate the pain that comes with them.

"Funny, she said the same thing 'bout you, 'bout how much you'd hate her. Dean Winchester you will call her and fix this so help me god, boy, I will kick your ass my self. Couple o' idjits, you two." Dean can't help but smile at the term of endearment coming from the older man, and his heart leaps at the thought that maybe, maybe she won't hate him for what he did. But she saw him there. She knows what he did, the things he said. His heart aches for her but his fear of being rejected, of being despised, over powers all of his rampant thoughts. They leave the old barn, making their way back to Bobby's house, Dean making him swear not to tell Sam about him remembering his time in the pit. Even though he promised to contact his lover…former lover…would she even speak to him...even though he promised, he slips the phone back into his pocket.

***

A/N: Thank you again for the reviews, hopefully you like it so far, please let me know!!! I'm debating on when to have them reunite; some ideas have so much angst to go with them, too many choices, let me know what you think. Cheers!