Bobby kicked a hole in the wall and bent over to place the hex bag in. He groaned straightening up, fighting against gravity and back pain to stand upright again.
'What's up Bobby?' he heard from behind him.
Bobby looked to see Dean. 'You'll be like this too one day you idjit.'
Dean, oblivious to Bobby's back pain, said with an eyebrow partially raised, 'okay, Grandpa, someone's getting a bit senile.'
'Shut up,' growled Bobby. 'Where's ya brother?'
'Sam? Upstairs probably. He said you tried to call me for help. Do you know something?'
'Know something? What are you talking about, I never tried to call you,' Bobby knew something wasn't right.
'But Sam sai-' Dean pulled his cell phone out from his pocket and looked at the missed calls. Or, no missed calls. 'Sam!'
Dean and Bobby both ran up towards Adrianne's apartment; the door was locked. Dena was so fast that he had the door busted open before Bobby made it up the last flight of stairs. The sight that greeted them scared Dean into quick action.
Sam stood in the middle of the living room, knife in hand. The knife hang in the air pointed towards his chest. Sam's eyes moved from looking absently at the roof to Dean at the doorway before the knife started to plunge towards Sam's chest.
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