Again, sorry this is short. I'm having some family issues right now. My brain isn't capable of writing as much as i love to. Please read and review. It means the world to me!

Chapter 5

After Kenzie's departure to the feed store, Sam and Bobby sat in awkward, yet comforting silence for a few minutes, as they read and reread what Kenzie and Sam had planned. Bobby took off his baseball cap and scratched at his temple, long and hard, failing to take his eyes off the paper. Once in awhile, however, his eyes would dart over to Sam on the other couch, wondering why it took him so damn long to find his way back. Outside, there was a slight breeze that was spiraling the fall leaves in a makeshift tornado, and the screen door to the back of the house, swung back and forth. For about the billionth time the door swung and connected with the frame, Bobby exhaled, dramatically, and caught Sam's eye.

"Sometimes you can be real stubborn, ya know that?" Bobby growled. Kenzie wasn't around to keep Bobby at bay and he was going to take full advantage of the moment.

"So I've been told," Sam gnawed at his bottom lip, knowing very well, that he was going to get a 'talkin' to' from Bobby.

"Either you were stupid enough to get into some sort'a trouble that you can't muster a way out of," Bobby began, "or something out there spooked the bejesus out'a ya."

Sam just squirmed in his seat, feeling as if he was being admonished like a child, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Only this time, it wasn't John holding a belt, it was Bobby. He didn't dare look Bobby in the eyes which made the older man more annoyed than ever.

"Damn it, boy!" Bobby growled, "Look at me when I'm talkin' to you!"

"What do you want from me, Bobby?" A frustrated Sam looked up at his aged friend and raised his hands as he shrugged his shoulders.

"I want answers," Bobby lowered his voice, a slight tremble in his lip caught Sam off guard. "I want to know where the hell you've been and what you've got caught up in."

Sam threw his notepad to the floor and began to pace back and forth. Bobby watched and listened as Sam relayed his actions for the past four months. Sam told him how he went off the radar, hunting demons, luring them, setting up traps, killing those who wouldn't assist him, and sending those back to Hell, when they did.

"No matter what I did, or what I found," Sam sighed, "it was never enough."

"I couldn't find a way to bring him back," his voice quaked, "and just when I thought I reached the end of the road, he just appeared."

"I thought I was delusional," Sam finally faced Bobby, "I hadn't slept in weeks, ate even less, and I did things, horrible things, things that would make Dean think less of me."

"Son, you didn't…" Bobby couldn't bring himself to finish, but the dead silence that lingered between them, spoke louder than any words could have.

"I tried," Sam looked disgusted, "I summoned a Cross Roads demon and you know what she said?"

Bobby just stared at him, waiting for him to finish, longing to hear his voice, no matter what Sam had to say. Bobby pulled at his mustache and took a swig of his beer. He didn't have to pry, Sam continued speaking.

"Said the Winchesters ran the gamut too many times," Sam laughed, "who were we to think we could wrap our hands around another 'Get outta Hell free' card?" Sam plopped down on the couch, his eyes, dark, his voice, sinister.

"So I shot her."

"Every damn one of them, I sent back to Hell, the very place I couldn't rid of Dean."

"Yeah," Bobby managed a small gurgle of a laugh, "you'd think they would'a sent him back up here by now."

"Too close of quarters for all his smart ass, wise crackin', manure spittin' nonsense."

"Yeah," Sam's lips curled into half a smile, "you'd think."

For a split second, Bobby and Sam caught each other's eyes, and a lump formed in their throats. Could it be just that? Did Dean cause them so much trouble down in the fiery pits of Hell that they reneged on their deal? Would they give him up so easily; after trying so desperately to take him down? Shaking it off, they both knew it wasn't that simple. Whatever or whomever brought Dean back wasn't going to make it that straightforward for them.

"You saw him?" Bobby asked, "Ain't that what you said?"

"Just for a brief flash, after I was finished burning down a vampire's nest along with its brood, there was this chill in the air, and out by the car, you know, his car, I saw him."

"He nodded at me, Bobby," Sam exhaled, "almost as if to say 'Good job, Sammy'."

"And then he was gone," Sam rubbed at his eyes, "and I drove straight here."

"I was losing a bit of blood," Sam almost excused what he saw, "like I said, I was out of it."

"Well, I haven't lost any blood," Bobby's tone was serious, "yeah, I haven't slept much, worryin'll do that to a man," Sam dodged Bobby's reprimanding eyes, "but I saw your dang brother too."

"Kenzie said," Sam nodded, "which still doesn't explain why he just doesn't come forward."

"Why does he run from you, run from her, and just appear to me?"

"Why did that boy do half of the things he ever did, Sam?" Bobby shrugged as if to say, who knew.

The clock on the wall behind Sam's lanky, yet muscular, stature, ticked and chimed as it rang out five distinct times, indicating how many hours had passed since Kenzie had left for the feed store. Knowing it shouldn't have taken her so long to get into the middle of town and back, Sam wondered where she could have been all this time. If he had bothered to even look, he would have found her sitting, idle, in her racing striped Camaro, watching him pace back and forth. She had to give those two their space, their well needed, venting session. She needed them to be aware of their situation if what they were about to do, was going to work out in their best interests.