Back and forth. Back and forth.

Back…

And forth.

Bobby's feet were getting tired as they were dragged across his worn carpet by his ever-fidgety legs. Back and forth he went. Pacing was never a habit he had been into, not for most of his life anyways. He had always been a calm and patient man. But that was before he met John Winchester. John had come into his life like a tyrant; crazy, impatient, risky, and dragging his two sons around the country like they were his little caddies. Eventually as Bobby got to know John and his sons better, he came to see that the oldest was also a risky tryant, and that the youngest was also impatient and crazy. So he had his hands full on the days when John came over and dumped his kids at Bobby's for a few nights. There was no point in Bobby arguing with the man that he wasn't a babysitter, because everyone knew that first of all; John didn't care, and second of all; Bobby would take Sam and Dean anytime anywhere and loved them more than he would like to admit. So he had seen them go through diapers, guns, cars, girls, and hunts. He had seen Sam to go college and Dean inherit the Impala. Those were the good 'ol days. But after John had died, things all went to hell. He had to watch those boys grow up all over again, and they became more like their father than was really healthy. And then Sam died… And Dean went and followed in his igit-father's igit-footsteps. Dean went after that and well… Things just went to hell all over again.

But now, John was back. Sam was alive, Dean was out of hell, and John was back! The world was looking up. Well, there was the whole apocalypse-on-their-door thing and all that entailed, but other than that Bobby had been pretty ecstatic.

But of course, Bobby had forgotten how stupid Winchesters could be. He loved them all to death, but it was amazing how three of the smartest men he ever knew couldn't find the brains to just call him back!

Sam was gone, run away on one of his igit-schemes to save the world on his own, so of course he wasn't going to show any decency and call. Dean and John were searching for Sam off on their own, but of course they were too buisy focusing on things that obviously seemed more important than Bobby. And Bobby was supposed to wait here and see if Sam showed up or called, so he couldn't go after any of them.

So back and forth he went. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Back…

And forth.

This family was going to send him to his grave early, he just knew it.

Bring!

Bobby almost jumped, surprised out of his pacing-stupor by the ringing of one of his many phones sitting on his messy desk or attached to the wall beside it. He stared for a minute, searching for the blinking light that would show him just which one was the culprit, and when he found the right phone he jumped on it like a hyena on a steak.

"Hello?" Bobby kept his voice even, not wanting to sound too kind or too harsh. Who knew whom he was talking to, after all? Best to say neutral until he had his bearings.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and Bobby was starting to think that maybe the caller end had hung up. He was just about to do so himself when he heard quick breathing on the other end. "B-Bobby?"

Pausing, Bobby struggled to think about where he had heard that voice before. He cleared his throat, not comfortable with being out of the loop. "Yeah, that's what they call me. What do you want?"

"I… I know I'm not really welcome but I didn't really know whom else to call. I just got… I'm not really sure what h-happened, and I was just sort of… I had to get in contact with someone I knew and your number was the first one I remembered."

Of course. Bobby's heart dropped into his shoes, and if he didn't know better he would have sworn that the old thing had finally given out. He recognized the voice, but it couldn't be right. He knew better than to believe that he could be hearing it again. It was just too crazy.

"…Bobby, are you still there?"

He cleared his throat, finding that suddenly it felt dry. "Bela?"

"Bobby," Bela's voice was almost a sob. "I didn't… Look I know you probably don't want to hear from me but" –

"Bela?" Bobby repeated the question almost stupidly, too amazed to believe it.

"Surprised?" There was some sort of dry laugh on the other end, and then silence. "I can't say that I blame you."
"Bela, I…"Bobby removed his trucker cap, running a hand through his balding hair and replacing it again shortly after. " It's been almost a year now. We all thought you were in – We all thought you were dead. How did you get away? Where are you?"

When Bela answered, her voice was almost hesitant. "I'm in Ainsworth Nebraska. Can… Do you think you can pick me up? I don't… I know you don't want to see me again but I really don't have anywhere to go."

Bobby couldn't help noticing that she had avoided the most important question of the day – how are you still alive?! – but he decided to let it go for now. "That isn't too far away from here. I can come pick you up in a few hours. Just… Just hang tight. When I get there you owe me one hell of an explanation."

"Look, I don't know how many blanks I can fill for you, but I guess I can try." Bela's British accent was slightly slurred from either alcohol or exhaustion, and judging by the circumstances Bobby guessed the later. "Thanks."

Bobby nodded, shoving his feet into his boots. "Alright. That isn't good enough for me, but then again there isn't much I can wrestle out of you over the phone. I'll meet you at the first coffee shop listed in the phone book around five or six."

There was a small sigh over the line, and then silence. "Bobby… I…"

He heisted, phone in one hand. "What?"

"I don't know why you're helping me, and I know I don't deserve it… but thanks."

"No, you don't." Bobby was surprised at the emotion in his own voice, and he suddenly realized how much he had actually been affected by her betrayal to the boys. "I never said I forgive you. But I'm damn-well not going to let you become a hobo in the middle of nowhere when I could kick your ass myself."

Bela made a sound that could have been a laugh, but because of mutual tiredness and the strain of the conversation it was hard to tell. "I didn't expect anything less. I'll be at the coffee shop as promised. And when I get some money I can pay you back" –

"No need," Bobby sighed, running a hand over his face. "I'll see you when I see you. Until then, stay out of trouble."

He could almost sense Bela nodding on the other end, and she was starting to say something that sounded like "thank" – when he hung up the phone. Oh well, he figured, she could thank him and apologize later. Bobby was almost counting on it.

But the more important matter was not how many times she was going to have to apologize to him – let alone Dean! – get some form of trust back. The important thing was the fact that she was even here to need any! It didn't make sense… Nobody escaped the hellhounds. Nobody. So how was Bela still alive?

Another thought hit Bobby like a freight train, and his mouth formed a tiny O. What if Bela wasn't still alive, but she was just back? Just like Dean and John?

Suddenly Bobby realized that Bela wasn't the only one who had some explaining to do.

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Not a very long update, but I hope you guys enjoyed it. I just wrote it all at like midnight tonight because I really wanted to update, so if there are any stupid grammatical errors I missed please just blame it on my tired state. I am so happy to see the positive fan response to this story, and I am glad you guys like it. You guys rock! Please review! I will update soon!

With love, ArmagonAuthor