August 22nd, 2008

He's already picked up the phone to dial three times now, chickening out every single attempt. Bobby's always been the one to help others, Old Faithful as Dean once referred to him as. He gets people out of binds with the authorities, figures out how to kill the latest monsters anyone comes across, and, most importantly, he keeps every one of his kids in line. There have been many times in the past that he's solved Sam and Dean's issues for them, either in person or over the phone. And those two always had issues, big ones. They were just so different from each other that it was rare that they ever saw eye to eye completely. But Bobby always knew what to say to get them to a good, cooperative place and put them back on track. Same with Lizzy and Lou, but they didn't fight nearly as much. Fixing their issues was usually as easy as determining which one had correctly guessed the monster of the week.

But now… well, now he doesn't even hear from Sam, and both Lou and Dean are gone. He only has contact with Lizzy. Honestly he can't fix a damn thing for anyone right now with the state he's in so maybe it's a good thing he isn't being depended on as much anymore. It's a sad and helpless place to be, one Bobby never imagined finding himself in.

Sam hasn't called him in almost two months. That stupid kid is on a dangerous path. He's all alone and aside from Lizzy, he doesn't talk to anyone. For some reason, Sam's kept in somewhat touch with her, calling about once every two or three weeks. Bobby's just glad Lizzy cares enough to inform him every time she hears from Sam. Otherwise he'd have no idea what was going on with him. He blames himself for that, having been mean and spiteful the last time they talked. Hell, if he were Sam, he wouldn't want to talk to him either.

Lizzy has become the only bright spot he has left and she's miles and miles away. She still calls every other day, to gauge his emotional status and find out if he's been drinking too much. Of course he usually has and she then always threatens to come out and stay with him for a few days to make sure he's ok before he flat out denies her. It's sweet and overbearing, but she cares and it's the one thing he currently takes amenity in. She's really put herself into a matriarchal position and she fills it with grace and strength. She's a great kid. He wants her to have that normal life she swore to have as much as anyone does, as much as Dean did. She deserves it and seeing her at least try gives him a sense of pride in her. He's grateful that she's been strong enough to stay away and give the whole regular life a chance. And he's proud that she's kept her word with fierce conviction. He gets the feeling she's only partially ok with it so far, but if she sticks with it, maybe she'll be the first hunter he's ever known to actually get out. Wouldn't that be nice?

Bobby takes another swig of cheap liquor and realizes now just how desperately he needs help. He can't ask Lizzy, no matter how much he knows he should. She worries too much and he doesn't want her to know this side of him, the drunken, awful side of him; the side that reminds him of his father. He could never put that kind of burden on any of the people he considers family. He swore to himself he never would do that to his loved ones as he knows what a heavy weight it is from experience.

So now he has one option left. One person who can hear him out and understand… that is, of course, if this one person isn't completely pissed off at him still. They didn't part on the best of terms last time they saw each other, and that was completely Bobby's fault. He said some stupid things and was too busy wallowing in his own depression to see how rude he was being to one of the few allies he had left.

Bobby takes a deep breath and picks up his cell phone again. After he's found the name he wants to dial, he presses send and holds it to his ear. The line rings and he waits with anxiety on high, taking the time to gulp down another mouthful of whiskey.

"What do you want?" the rough voice asks on the other end when it's picked up. Bobby isn't sure what to say and he hesitates. "Bobby? I know it's you, man. What the hell do you want?"

"Rufus…" Bobby begins, dropping the glass in his hand onto the desk he's sitting at and sighing loudly as he leans his forehead into the palm of his hand. He sucks up his pride for once in his life. "I need some fuckin' help."

"So this is what happens to sweet little Sammy Winchester once strong, protective big brother is gone, huh?" the demon tied to a chair smirks up at him. She huffs a laugh. "It's pathetic. And quite hilarious!"

"Shut the fuck up," Sam courageously says. He's ready, he knows he is. He and Ruby have been training for a while now and he's gotten much stronger. His confidence is soaring.

"You're fucking adorable, you know that?" she winks to him with blackened eyes before continuing. "Man, I never thought I'd actually see the day you'd give in. It's about time really. I was getting tired of waiting. We all were."

"You just love talking, don't you?" Sam says with an air of superiority. No matter what this demon says to him, she's as good as gone so he listens either way.

"Yes. Or at least I love to talk when it gives me that chance to hear the sound of this cute little chickadee I'm riding. She's got a great voice, kinda sexy don't you think?" she smiles. "Don't get me wrong, Sammy. I'm glad you took the road less traveled here, but I have to say I'm surprised at you for messing with that lower then low piece of shit over there." She turns her attention to Ruby standing in the corner of the room.

"Watch what you say about me," Ruby warns while walking up and standing next to Sam. "Don't wanna piss off the big man any more than you already have."

"I could give a rat's ass who I piss off," the demon tells her. "I'm as good as back in the pit no matter what I say. Might as well speak my mind, right?"

"It's more like back in the pit if you're good," Ruby pulls out her knife, twisting it to show it off properly, "Or dead as a fucking doornail if you're not."

"What a crazy bitch," she calls Ruby before turning back to Sam. "You trust this lying sack? Man, and here I was thinking you were the brains of the operation all this time. Musta underestimated that Dean, huh?"

"Where's Lilith?" Sam asks quickly. Dean was off limits.

"Fuck me if I know," she answers back while she eyes him up and down. "Seriously, open invitation. I always heard you were something to look at, but damn."

"I'll pass, thanks."

"Funny, I heard you liked fucking demons… must've been bad intel."

"I'll ask again," Sam says loudly, ignoring the comment. "Where is Lilith?"

"I swear I don't know. She's hiding and doing a great job at it. Look, I don't like her, not in the least. I was holding out for you, dude. I never wanted to follow her."

Sam furrows his brow with the information. Ruby told him this demon would know something, be at least aware of where Lilith had been recently. He looks to Ruby and she simply shrugs.

"So you're no help to me then?" Sam threatens the bound demon. "I can get rid of you now?"

"If that's what you want, oh fearless leader," she jests back. "Like I said, I wanted it to be you, Sam, so you do what you must. I'm still loyal to the destined one. The one who will lead and save us all."

Sam's anger grows as he's once again referred to as an evil leader. That's not him and the idea that some demons still expect that of him irks him and makes him rageful. Sam raises his hand to her and closes his eyes to focus. He can feel the demon blood coursing rapidly through his system and he can see in his mind, through his dropped lids, the black smoke rising out of the demon. He hears her coughing as he works that quickly turns to gaging noises as the demon is expelled. The pain begins to grow in his temples as he struggles to finish yanking the demon out. He presses on through the ache to the very end, when the smoke dissipates and he's left in a briefly quiet room.

"You ok?" Ruby breaks in, a hand on his shoulder and concerned look on her face.

"Head hurts," he tells her as the headache stays put, making him wince and rub at his temples. He wipes under his nose and sees the red smeared across the back of his hand. "Still getting nose bleeds too, I guess."

"But it took less time and you never faltered. Smooth sailing, cowboy," Ruby points out as she moves to check the woman that's tied to the chair's pulse. "Still alive. Nice job, Sam."

Sam smiles at the idea that he's saved another person. It's a great feeling to be helping people like this, giving them a chance to live instead of having to kill them over demonic possession, which was never the victim's fault. It takes away some of the guilt, at least temporarily, from the life he's been living.

"Ah, grasshopper, you make me proud," Alistair grins. "You've done some fine work so far. Best damn student this side of existence."

Dean smiles back at his teacher while wiping clean the razor in his hand, his heart swelling with pride in himself as he does. It's been a long time since he's made someone pleased with him like this. It was comforting in an odd way.

Once off the rack, it was an easy transition for Dean to go from torturee to torturer. His whole life he's been dedicated to helping others but after thirty long, awful, horrific years of torment he's more than happy to dole some vengeance out. It felt good, like justice. And he was good at it, too. Damn good, scary good even. He took to it like a fish to water.

"And because you've been such a good student, I've decided to reward you, Dean. Bring in someone you've been dying to get your truly sadistic and wonderfully talented hands on."

Dean hopes with everything in him that it's who he truly wants. She's a bitch, a con artist, and a thief, and he knows she's been down there somewhere for even longer than he has. He's had his hopes high for the chance to make her soul beg for mercy. She's evil to her very core and after everything she'd put him and Sam through, she deserves what's coming to her.

"Please tell me it's who I hope it is," Dean asks, looking up to the taller demon standing at his side with eyes full of longing. Alistair says nothing but smiles widely before winking at Dean.

"Dean!" he hears the British accent proclaim while he closes his eyes and revels in the sound of fear in her voice.

He slowly turns his head and sees her, face wrinkled in anticipated anguish. He gives her his most evil grin and laughs. "Hey there, Bela. Long fucking time…" he raises his razor to her line of vision and watches as her fear makes itself well known. "No see."

"What is this?" she quickly asks, clearly confused by his demeanor.

"This…" Dean leans close into her, "Is karma being a real son of a bitch."

"Dean, this isn't you," Bela says to him pleadingly. "You'd never do this."

"Back when I knew you, no I wouldn't," Dean light-heartedly agrees. "But now… well, now I'm a whole new beast."

"Don't! Please, don't do this," the shaking voice asks. "I don't deserve this."

"No?" Dean asks with bulging eyes, shocked to hear her lie so easily even while in hell. "You are a lying, worthless, heartless bitch. You conned us, stole from us, you shot Sam! You are going to pay for all the shit you pulled up there. I'm going to make sure of that, sweetie."

With that, Dean sets to work repaying her for all she put him through in the past. Her screams act as confirmation to him that what he's doing is right, is a certain special brand of justice that only he could truly appreciate. The smile on his lips as Bela begs for mercy should be troublesome for him, but instead he finds happiness in it. Closing his eyes again to fully take in her horrified cries, something cuts through the sound of pain and makes him pause.

Promise me you won't give in. You won't ever break.

This happens at least once a day. Lizzy's voice pushes its way through the mess and falls on his ears.

Those evil sons of bitches are gonna do whatever it takes to turn you into the monster they want you to be. Don't you give them an inch. Not a fucking inch.

He got off that rack, breaking his vow to her, and now, even though he's no longer on the receiving end of the torture, he still feels the daily punishment her words dole out to him. He's still tortured, just in a new way.

"You're better than this, Dean," Bela calls out in a labored voice, trying to overcome the anguish she's going through. "This is not who you are."

"Fuck you," Dean bellows out as he whips his head in her direction. "You have no idea what I am!"

Bela gets the message, shutting her mouth to avoid making his anger any worse and therefore ensuring that her torture will be that much worse in turn.

Dean continues his work with a heavy heart. He misses her and over the thirty or more very long years he's started to forget what her face looks like, what her touch feels like, what she smells like. But her voice never left him. He still hangs onto that fiercely, even if it mind-fucks him daily.

"Ready?" the very gentlemanly, and very hot, man asks her as he holds open the passenger side door of his car.

"As I'll ever be," Lizzy smiles up to him before getting in. The second he walked into her bar that night, her heart nearly stopped. This guy looked eerily like him, from the green eyes to the spiky, though slightly darker, hair to the lightly freckled nose and cheeks. He was wearing a dark leather jacket and his confident, bow-legged gait was all too familiar. He spent the night playing pool and ordering whiskey straight from her and only her. When he went to the jukebox and Led Zeppelin started playing, it was a done deal for her. She needed him.

"How long you been working here?" he asks her once he's in the driver's seat. He starts up his Prius and pulls out of the parking space outside the bar. Maybe there were some subtle differences between this guy and Dean, but they were differences she was willing to overlook. It's desperate and a little pathetic, she's well aware, but over three months of horrible loneliness makes her decision to leave with a faux-Dean that much easier.

"A little over a month now," she explains as Flo Rida's 'Right Round' plays over the speakers. She's surprised to hear it. "You're into rap?"

"Oh yeah," he smiles to her. "There's something so poetic about it, like spoken word with a beat."

He says this as Lizzy hears the lyrics of the song playing.

From the top of the pole I watch her go down. She got me throwin' my money around. Ain't nothin' more beautiful to be found. It's goin' down down.

"Just gorgeous," Lizzy jests with the horrendously written song. "Heartwarming."

"Well, sometimes it's just fun," he smiles to her.

"You like rock too thought, right?"

"Not really."

"But didn't you put Zeppelin on in the bar?"

"Been watching me all night, huh?" he confidently asks with a wink, very reminiscent of the way Dean would react. "I did that for my buddy. I usually crap on him for his terrible taste in music, but he beat me in pool so I had to put it on. He only likes that old stuff that been around so long it actually sounds dusty."

She just nods her head and keeps quiet. Ok, so there are several, huge differences here, she thinks. Maybe if she can get him to stop talking this can work for her. He parks the car in what she assumes is his driveway after a very short drive.

"Home sweet home," he says to her before opening the door to get out. She copies his actions and gets out of her side.

"Wow, I literally live like two blocks from here," she tells him as they walk up to the side door and he unlocks it.

"Been here for a few years," he explains while holding the door open to let her in. "You must be new to town if we haven't run into each other by now."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm originally from the area but left for a while before coming back a couple months ago." She looks around the house and sees the strewn about empty beer bottles and cans, the Xbox with controllers out, and the very large bong on the worn and chipped coffee table. "Got quite a frat house vibe going on around here, don't ya'?"

"Yeah, well when you put five guys in a house together this is what you tend to get," he says as he shuts the door and walks over to her, putting hands on her hips and pulling her in close. "So, I have to say I'm glad you took an interest in me tonight." He smiles warmly down at her in a way that should have put her at ease.

"Yeah?" Lizzy asks while circling her arms around his neck, trying to get something going.

"Oh definitely. There was a reason I kept going to only you for all my drinks tonight."

"So glad you did," she grins while he leans his head down to her. Their lips come together and she kisses someone for the first time since Dean left. Her lips move against his and she feels… nothing. It's empty and, while still slightly fun, it fills her with guilt instead of glee.

The Dean-alike runs his hands over her, grabbing her ass as he kisses her deeper and she has a flash of panic and sudden nausea. This is wrong. She really shouldn't be doing this. What the fuck was she thinking?

Lizzy pulls away, fake smile in place and looks up at the man she can't even remember the name of. "Hey, um, I'm so, so sorry, but I have to go."

"Really?" he asks, hurt and very confused.

"Shit, I shouldn't have come here," she calmly tells him while removing her arms from his neck. "I'm sorry, I know this is so mean of me but I really can't do this." She turns to leave through the door they came in, but she's stopped when he grasps her hand.

"Hey," he gently says as she turns back to face him. "Are you going to be ok?"

"No," she very honestly says before laughing quietly.

"Can I at least give you a ride home then?" It figures that he'd be so damn sweet when she's walking out on what was supposed to be a one-night-stand. She found one of the few nice guys actually out there and she's turning him down.

"Nah, I'll walk," she smiles up to the very kind man in front of her. "You're so fucking nice, you know that?"

"Yeah, I do. And once again it isn't working out for me at all," he laughs, his green eyes sparkling as he does and making her sure she's doing the right thing in leaving.

"It's a shame I'm such a mess then. Well, just tell your buddies whatever you want when they get back," she says. "Next time you all come in I'll play along."

"Pity, nice," he grins down to her.

"Not pity, dude," she assures him. "The next whiskey is on me, ok?" She cranes her neck up and kisses him on the cheek.

"Deal."

"Goodnight," she bids as she walks out the door, taking a deep breath of fresh air to keep the sickness of her churning stomach at bay. She begins her short trek home, her mind running the entire way. She's never going to move on, she thinks. Never. She knows it'll won't get easier either. Might as well look into convents at this point. How fucking pathetic of her to try and replace him, even for a just a night. How could she do that? Dean deserves so much better than that.

Time to go home and drink alone… again.