ACT II

Goodbyes were never really Dean's thing. Maybe it was because he was never the one doing the leaving but usually the one being left. After his conversation with Sam, he'd made his way up to the room he'd been sharing with Lisa, taking the better part of the next two hours explaining all things Winchester. He'd told her about their life, how they'd been raised, about Dad and about Hell. He'd explained their part in the apocalypse and the averting of such, never once able to look her in the eyes to see if she was even buying into any of it. By the time he was through, he could feel the oppressive silence almost threatening to crush him, grind him right through the queen size mattress.

It had taken them less time to get Ben up and packed, having finally convinced Lisa that they weren't safe in their own home either. If demons came looking for Dean, they would be collateral damage and Dean cared far too much for them to let that happen. The initial plan was to take them to Bobby's until they could regroup and figure out something a little more long-term, but calls to the salvage yard and to Bobby's cell had gone unanswered. That, in itself, was something that worried both Winchesters.

Lisa had actually been the one to come up with plan B. She'd been planning a trip to see an old friend, someone who had a son Ben's age, but had been putting it off since Dean had literally dropped onto her doorstep. A quick call, a hasty apology for the lateness – or earliness – of the request, and she was packed and ready to head to Minneapolis.

Dean said goodbye to Ben, who was still only half awake, helping the boy get tucked into the back seat of Lisa's Honda. Sam had simply given her an apologetic smile and retreated to the safety of the Impala, trying hard not to look like he was eavesdropping on his brother's goodbye.

Dean stood next to the open driver's side door, leaning against the outside as Lisa, wedged into the opening, leaned from the other side. With the door between them, only their foreheads touched, their eyes closed as if savoring the last moments together.

"I'm sorry," Dean whispered, his voice shaking slightly, surprised at how hard it was to say goodbye. He'd dropped into this woman's life and she'd never hesitated to hold out her arms to him. She'd never asked why he'd come, never questioned his grief. She'd simply been there, a shoulder to cry on, a warm body to lean on until he was able to stand on his own. She'd asked nothing in return, had simply been thankful for having him there.

She deserved so much more.

"I'm not," she raised her head and smiled up at him. Her eyes swam in tears, but the sadness was mixed with a soft caring. "I never knew exactly who you were, Dean Winchester, but over the years, I'll admit I had a few fantasies." Her smile turned into a mischievous grin and Dean couldn't help but return it.

"Fantasies, huh?"

She nodded her head, curling her bottom lip under her front teeth. "A few. But, I think the real thing is so much better."

Dean swallowed, wishing he could give her the life she deserved. "I'm not so sure."

She reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek before extending her arm over the top of the door and placing it along his jaw. "I am."

"Lisa, I'm so sorry. I never meant to screw up your life like this."

"I know," she responded. "I can't say I'm thrilled that… and I can't believe I'm saying this … demons are coming after us, but I don't believe any of this is your fault, Dean." She shook her head and ducked down a little to catch his eyes. "I want you to know I don't blame you. And I'm glad you came to us, came to me. Just promise me something."

Dean took a breath and dropped his eyes. "Lisa..."

"Promise me you'll do everything you can to come home."

"Lisa…" he raised his head, not sure if he was capable of promising anything. "I can't…"

"I'm not asking you to promise to come back, Dean. I'm asking you to try. That's all."

Dean swallowed and looked into her eyes, seeing everything he'd ever wanted. He knew what she was offering. He just wasn't sure if it was fair of him to accept it. He sighed softly, finally nodding. "I can do that."

"Good."

He leaned down and gave her a kiss, pulling back for a moment before giving her a second filled with passion and promise. As they broke apart, she looked up and gave him a sad smile, then, without another word, climbed behind the wheel of the car and started the engine.

Dean pushed the door closed and stepped back, holding her eyes as she backed out of the driveway. He watched as the car drove down the street, not moving until the red of the taillights was lost in the early glow of the breaking dawn.

Slowly he made his way to the Impala, sliding into the drivers seat. He didn't start the car, just sat staring at the empty house he'd lived in for the last month.

"She okay?"

Sam' voice cut through the silence and Dean turned his head slightly toward his brother. "Yeah. I guess." He shrugged, a weary sigh pulling from his lips. "Hell, I don't know."

"You love her?"

Dean wasn't sure how to answer that question. He knew he cared about Lisa and he wasn't kidding when he'd told her he'd be proud to be Ben's dad. But love? Maybe. In time. But right now they had a job to do and he couldn't afford to let something like emotions distract him from what was going on around them.

Welcome back to Winchester World.

"Did you get a hold of Bobby?"

He knew Sam recognized the deflection, and Dean silently thanked his brother for having the good grace not to comment.

"No. Still goes straight to voicemail."

"So, we head to South Dakota."

Sam nodded as Dean started the engine, smiling at the familiar sound of the Impala. "We head to South Dakota."

….

Singer Salvage was quiet… almost unnaturally so… which in their line of work, was not totally unexpected, but still unnerving. As Dean cut the rumbling engine of the Impala, both hunters opened their doors and stepped out onto the hard packed dirt strip that served as Bobby's driveway. Sam closed his door and leaned back against the metal as Dean leaned across the top of the car, his eyes narrowed as he surveyed the property.

"Doesn't look like he's been here for a while," Sam observed, finishing his own visual assessment of the salvage yard.

Dean shook his head. "I've got a bad feeling, Sammy."

"As you should."

Both hunters turned toward the house, fighting the impulse to draw their weapons when they caught sight of the demon on the porch.

"Crowley," Dean growled, stepping back and slamming the driver's door closed. He stalked around the front of the Impala and approached the steps of the house even as the well-dressed demon held up a hand in sublimation.

"Now, now, is that anyway to greet an old friend?"

Dean didn't bother to acknowledge the question. "Where's Bobby?" He stopped short of the porch, feeling his brother's reassuring presence at his back.

Crowley stepped forward, dropping down onto the top step with a jaunty hop. "Coincidentally, that is the exact question I was going to ask you." He looked behind Dean, a knowing smile lifting the corners of his mouth as his eyes met Sam's. "I do have to admit I am a bit surprised to see you, Sam. I guess your little dance with the devil went off much better than I'd ever imagined. Apparently I underestimated you."

"Apparently." Sam's tone was biting and Dean couldn't quite suppress an expression of pride.

"I'm not going to ask you again," Dean stepped forward until he was standing on the step directly below Crowley, the height difference bringing them face-to-face. "Where. Is. Bobby."

Crowley shrugged, unperturbed by the ire on the hunter's face. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his overcoat and stepped around Dean to the ground. "It seems Bobby is not home at the moment." He turned once he was past the brothers and gave them a cheeky smile. "Perhaps you could leave him a note."

Dean started toward the demon, but Sam placed a firm hand on his arm, thwarting his progress.

"Dean…"

"Sam," Dean tried to shake his brother off, but the grip was firm. "Bobby's missing, demons came after me, and now we find this windbag here. Do the math, dude."

Sam nodded, his eyes flicking toward Crowley before shifting back to his brother. "I don't think he knows anything, man." At Dean's look of exasperation, he quickly continued. "Think about it. I know he's a demon, but Crowley is probably the last… thing… that would want to see Lucifer free."

Dean let his brother's words sink in. His gut was telling him that whatever was happening with Bobby was somehow connected with his own status as number one on the demon hit parade, but Crowley had been instrumental in helping them find the last two horsemen and wasn't exactly on Lucifer's Christmas Card list. He sighed and shook his head in exasperation, reluctantly accepting that his brother was right. He patted Sam's hand, nodding when the younger man released his hold.

He turned back to Crowley. "Then why are you here?"

Crowley spread his hands in front of him. "Why, to conclude our bargain, of course."

Dean frowned, exchanging a look with Sam. "You mean to return his soul?"

Crowley smiled innocently. "That was the deal, yes?"

"So, you need to…" Sam waved a hand in front of his face, "…you know…kiss again?"

"It's not strictly necessary, no," the demon admitted. "But I do like to see the look on a person's face when they realize there is such a thing as an honorable demon. I was especially looking forward to seeing Bobby's expression considering him being a hunter and all." He looked between the brothers, his smile growing. "But the looks on your mugs is satisfying enough."

"So," Dean's voice was hesitant, not really believing the part about demons being honorable. "Bobby's soul is back where it belongs? Just like that"

Crowley snapped his fingers. "Just like that," he echoed. "Now, if you two would excuse me, I do have work to do." He turned toward the driveway, then stopped and held up a Columbo-esgue hand. "Oh yes, I almost forgot." He turned toward Dean, his grin replaced by a look of complete seriousness. "If I were you, I'd think twice before trusting anyone, Dean. As long as my kind believe you have the means to release their prince, you should watch your back… and your front… and both sides if possible."

Dean smirked as he verbally brushed off the demon's warning. "Just some advice from an old friend?"

Crowley glanced at Sam, one eyebrow rising before focusing back on the older hunter. "Something like that."

And in a blink of an eye, he vanished.

"I really hate that," Dean muttered. He waved a hand at Sam as he turned and trudged back up the stairs. "Let's check the place out."

….

Dean had always thought of the inside of Bobby Singer's house as controlled chaos. It was good to know that some things didn't change. Every surface of the living and dining room, as well as the library was covered in books, papers - research - the thing Bobby did best.

Since regaining the use of his legs, not to mention the loss of the Winchesters from the ranks, Bobby had obviously decided to take a more hands-on approach to hunting. A quick scan of the research found three distinct cases; a poltergeist in Iowa; a possible rugaru in Ohio and what Bobby had assessed to be demonic omens in Montana.

"You think Bobby would've gone after demons alone?" Sam asked as he shifted through the meteorological printouts stacked on the desk.

Dean pursed his lips in thought for a moment before frowning and shaking his head. "Bobby's careful. No way he would've done something that stupid."

Sam nodded in agreement. "Okay, then he either went after a poltergeist or a rugaru." He raised his head and focused on his brother who was still sifting through some of the old mechanic's research. "We can head to Dayton, stop in Waterloo on the way?"

Dean nodded absently. "Guess that's the only option." He tossed the paperwork down on the credenza and shook his head. "I just hope he made it there."

The ringing of Bobby's phone startled both hunters and they exchanged surprised looks. Shrugging, Dean stepped across the floor and picked up the phone, frowning as he spoke.

"Singer Salvage," he announced in a low voice.

"Bobby?"

Dean's eyes widened at the sound of the familiar voice.

"Rufus?"

He turned toward Sam who had risen from the chair, his own eyes wide with surprise.

"Dean?" Rufus seemed just as surprised to hear Dean's voice as Dean was to hear his.

"Yeah, man."

"Where's Singer?"

Dean sighed and rubbed his forehead. "That is the question of the day. We've been trying to get in touch with him since yesterday, but he's not answering his cell, and he's definitely not here."

"Last I heard he was heading out after a rugaru in Dayton," Rufus offered. "But that was a while ago."

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "We found some of his research. Guess that's the next stop."

"You think he's in trouble?"

Dean took a deep breath and flashed a look of concern to his brother. "Demons came after me... it's possible they might go after Bobby, too."

There was a moment of silence on the line as the old hunter considered the statement. "You think this has something to do with what you all did at Stull?"

"You heard about that, huh?"

"Yep."

Dean chuckled, remembering the drink he shared with the older man what seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Because you 'hear things', right?"

"Yep." Rufus gave a low laugh. "Bobby told me what happened. Said you'd retired from the life." When Dean didn't respond, he sighed. "But the life don't retire from you, does it?"

"Guess not."

"Well, take it from me, kid, once the dark side has a hold of you, there ain't no going back. Thought you'd learned that lesson from your old man."

Dean cleared his throat, beginning to grown uncomfortable with the path of the conversation. "So you think Bobby headed to Dayton?"

"That's what he told me. I was gonna meet up with him but something came up and I didn't make it. But, like you said, he's not answering his cell so I thought I'd try the yard."

Dean nodded, even though the older hunter couldn't see him. "Well if you do hear from him, let us know."

"You got it, kid. If you're going after him alone, you be careful."

It occurred to Dean that Bobby hadn't known Sam was alive, therefore as far as Rufus was concerned, the younger Winchester had perished along with Lucifer back at Stull. Something told him that until they found Bobby, it was better to keep it that way. "Thanks, you too." Dean hung the phone up and leaned against the desk.

"So," Sam leaned from the other side of the wide wooden desk. "I take it we're gonna hunt a rugaru?"

Dean shrugged then shook his head once. "I still think that's made up."

TBC