They finally made it back to Whitefish late the next night. Sam would call the hospital to check on Bobby's body in the morning. Lily had made the rest of the trip only having to pull over once. Dean seemed worried. He thought a stomach bug should be better by now, but Lily assured him that the doctor said it could linger for a while. She just couldn't work up the courage to tell him she was pregnant. Not after everything that had happened. She watched as Dean poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat on the sofa to watch television.

The following afternoon, Sam and Dean drove two hours away to pick up Bobby's body. Lily waited at the cabin, getting ready what she could for the funeral. When the guys got back, they built the platform and prepared Bobby's body for the send off. Lily spent the time going through the personal items that were sent along in a bag. She held Bobby's hat, staring at the hole. Tears began to form, but she held them back. She had to be strong so Dean could grieve.

She heard him call her name from outside. She followed his voice, still holding Bobby's hat, and found him placing more wood around the platform, as Sam poured on the lighter fluid. He walked over to a nearby work bench, picked up an open beer bottle, and drained whatever was left inside before walking to Lily. He noticed the hat in her hands and reached out for it.

"I almost forgot," Dean said.

"What?"

"His hat."

"What about his hat?"

"We have to burn it."

"No!" Lily clutched the hat in her hands and held it close to her chest.

"It has his blood on it," Dean said softly. "We don't want his spirit stuck here."

"Maybe I do. Maybe I want to see him again." So much for being strong, she thought.

"Lily..." Dean gripped the hat tight, but didn't pull it away from her. "You have to let him go."

A sob erupted from Lily as she let go of the hat. "That was the last thing he said to me... in the van, before he went to the roof."

Dean thought back, and she was right. Bobby had told her she had to let him go when she tried to go with him to the roof.

"I miss him already," she said through her tears.

Dean pulled her into his arms and held her tight, Bobby's hat still in his hand. "I know, sweetheart. I miss him too."

Lily pulled back and wiped her eyes. "Dean, I'm so sorry. I know Bobby meant a lot to you. You don't need to be worrying about me."

"I'm fine," Dean said.

"Don't try to play it tough. I know you're hurting."

Dean pulled away and walked to Bobby's body, tossing the hat on top. "Ready?" he called out to Sam.

Sam walked around the platform and nodded. Dean lit a book of matches and tossed it onto the wood around the bottom of the platform. As the flames grew, they stood and watched. Lily, standing between the two brothers, took each of theirs hands. Sam looked down at her hand and covered it with his free hand before his eyes went back to the fire. Dean didn't move. He stared blindly into the rising flames. One single tear slipped down his cheek, but still he didn't move.

It was several hours later before everything was cleaned up. Dean had gone through a few more beers, and a couple of glasses of whiskey. It was hard for Lily not to notice.

The next week went by in relative silence. Lily stayed by Dean's side, letting him know with her presence that she was there if he needed her, but he had become distant. His drinking increased, and he had fallen asleep on the coach every night since the funeral.

Lily's "morning" sickness, which had been striking at any given time, was getting better. She found that certain smells or sights could still trigger it, but she was feeling much better, physically. She was relieved when Dean finally began moving around and looking into the number that Bobby wrote on Sam's hand. That relief began to fade as the days went on. He buried himself in it, still shutting himself off.

Toward the end of the week, Sam went out for food and supplies. Dean refused to leave the house, and Lily didn't want to leave him alone. She used the time alone to try to get through to Dean. She sat next to him at the table in the kitchen area.

"Baby, please talk to me."

"This number is just weird," he said, ignoring her.

"I don't wanna talk about the number. You have to let yourself grieve."

Dean stood and walked to the sofa with a notepad. Lily followed and sat facing him. She pulled the notepad from him and threw it across the room.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"Trying to get your attention!"

Dean rolled his eyes and moved to get up, but Lily quickly straddled his lap, keeping him seated.

"You can't keep going like this, Dean."

"We have to find out what those numbers are and make Dick pay for this."

"We will, baby, but you have to let it out a little first." She put her hands to his face, keeping him looking at her.

"What, you want me to get all weepy and talk about my feelings?"

"No. I just want you to admit you're hurting and let me comfort you, like you did for me when my dad died."

"So, you wanna share Bobby stories? That's how you wanna comfort me? No thanks."

"I'll comfort you however you need me to," she whispered. "Just let me do it."

Dean stared at her for a moment before his lips crashed onto hers. She was a bit startled by the sudden kiss, but she returned it. One of Dean's hands sank into her hair, holding her lips to his. His other hand unbuttoned her jeans and traveled up under her shirt. He pulled away, and stood with Lily still in his lap. Her legs instinctively wrapped around him as he walked toward the bedroom. He kissed her again as he lowered her to the bed, his lips never leaving hers until he pulled her shirt over her head. He stood and removed her jeans, as well as his own clothes.

Lily knelt on the bed in front of Dean's now naked body and took him in her hands. He let out a moan before kissing her roughly again. He undid the clasp on her bra, and she let it fall from her arms before kissing down Dean's body. His hands went into her hair in anticipation of where her lips were headed. When she finally took him into her mouth, he fought the urge to thrust. His hands remained in her hair, eventually urging her to go faster until his breathing became rapid and his muscles started to tremble.

He pulled her away and pulled her legs from under her, effectively putting her on her back. He pulled her panties from her and climbed on top of her. He filled her in one thrust and kept a hard, fast pace until he was spent, and rolled onto his back.

Lily turned onto her side and ran her fingers down Dean's chest before bringing her hand to his face and turning it to her.

"I love you, Dean Winchester. Don't you ever forget that."

Dean responded by capturing her lips again, but the sound of the front door interrupted them. Sam was back. Dean ran his hand through Lily's hair and kissed her gently one more time.

"I'm glad I have you," he said.

"You'll always have me."