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Disclaimer: This is the tenth time this month I have to tell you – I don't own Supernatural... sadly.

Characters: Bobby

Inspired by: 7.02 'Hello, Cruel World'

Spoilers for: 7.02

Season: 7

A/N:This amazing moment when it's 5:03 am and you already know what today's chapter will be about but you still have to wait till the evening to have the time to note things down.

Back where they belong

Bobby smelled the smoke long before he saw what was burning, but as soon as he felt like he was tasting smoke on his tongue, he had a pretty good idea what was going on. It had been coming a long time now – actually he was a bit surprised it didn't just happen before.

There was a reason only very few hunters had just one base of operation, and Bobby's was fairly well-known.

Still, seeing his house burning down to ashes was worse than he'd imagined. It was, after all, the house he had lived in with Karen, the very house in which he had lost her; the house in which he'd read far too much obscure lore; the house to which various hunters always came back to for help; the house filled with so many things most people would think of as meaningless.

They'd had meaning for him.

It'd been home.

The timing was too perfect to ever believe this to be an accident. Aside from that, the fact that there was not a single firefighter anywhere in sight was telling enough... - Maybe the Leviathans hadn't only taken over this one hospital but some other important public organizations as well.

He had to hand it to them, latching onto those that would help them cover up their tracks was smart. They learned alarminglyfast.

Turning around immediately was Bobby's first instinct, but his mind reasoned that surely they were waiting for someone to do that. They must be somewhere around, trying to single him and the Winchesters out, waiting and watching ever so patiently.

His house wasn't dangerously close to the road, and the cars before him merely slowed down so that their occupants could have a good look at the brightly burning building.

Bobby snorted in anger and gritted his teeth: Well, since these weren't their memories burning to the ground, they of course felt it was their place and their chance to have a very good look at someone else's misery.

So instead of doing what his instincts told him, Bobby mimicked what the other drivers were doing and had one last look at his home, driving past the smouldering building slowly with guts clenching.

He suddenly remembered all the photo albums in the attic he couldn't look at anymore and this made him all the more furious – he'd lost enough, hadn't he? He had had more than his fair share of grief.

While Bobby acceleratedagain, tears of helpless fury and loss making the road in front of him appear blurry, an idea came to his mind that he had never seriously considered before: This might be his best chance to get out; quit hunting for the rest of his life. He could fake his death by manipulating official records, dropping off the radar and leave everything behind him.

He began planning it all out: He'd have to get a new name, but he'd been faking credit cards, IDs and badges more times than he cared to remember, so no problem there. He was a fast learner and willing to do hard work so getting an inconspicuous job shouldn't prove that much of an obstacle either. He doubted he'd earn much money, but maybe he'd be able to purchase an old house after some time, using his remaining years to fix it up, getting comfortable. Until then, he'd have to steer clear of any of his safe houses to make sure he didn't come across any hunters.

Bobby was sure he could make it work.

Then a car sped past him way too fast and all his daydreams became meaningless. He couldn't see into the Impala's front window and hadn't had a good look at the licence plate either, but he knew that damn car. He'd only just helped Dean rebuilt it.

While Bobby drove on, his hands clutching the steering wheel tightly, he began swearing furiously – even he hadn't been so dumb as to walk straight into this trap and get caught by the Leviathans – then again, they must believe him to be in the house since he'd told them to meet back there and regroup. He glanced over at the passenger seat where a pile of books was swaying dangerously from one side to the other. If he hadn't taken the time to skim through them after he'd had an idea he didn't want to leave unchecked till home (useless, of course, since that would have been too easy by far) and made a quick stop on the road... – If the situation was reversed, he wouldn't hesitate the fraction of a second.

So much for his made-up plans concerning his future life. A grim smile played around the corners of his mouth. It wouldn't work any way: Sam and Dean were far too smart to be fooled by faked records, and those two would never give up on him as long as there was the slightest chance he might still be out there.

Hell, if anyone could find him when he didn't want them to, it would be those men.

Bobby had made a decision ages ago about Dean and Sam Winchester – he would look out for these Idjits for as long as he was alive and breathing. He needed them just as much as they needed him.

He could never leave them behind.

When he finally decided it was safe to stop he first checked his phone. There was one new voice mail from Dean, asking in a frantic, panicked voice: "Now you said you'd be here. Where are you?"

With a lump in his throat forming due to the emotion in Dean's voice, Bobby slipped the phone back in his pocket hoping the Leviathans weren't yet able to hack phones and track GPS, turned round the car and began driving back.

"I'm coming. I promise. I'll find you – and when I have, I'll sent those sons of bitches back to purgatory where they belong – every last one of them!"