Disclaimer: Time to once again to pick a random disclaimer off the site and steal it…"Yep, you caught me. I own all of it! (Not really. I'm broke and don't own anything.)"

A/N: Hey y'all. Looks like I got more reviews for a death fic than my normal ones… weird, haha. Anyways, this is gonna be a quick note—I have actually started three separate one shots. This was the third one I started, and I started it last night after watching the episode Hello, Cruel World from season seven. It's kind of a what if story wherein I wondered what would happen if Dean had come back to Bobby's house just a little bit later and found the place burnt to the ground, and what if Sam hadn't gone off with Lucifer and had actually been there when it had been torched. Basically it was an excuse for some worried Dean because I like writing that. Enjoy!

Title: Burnt to the Ground
Genre: Suspense, a bit of angst and some fluff for good measure
Summary: Dean shows up at Bobby's plays to find the plays burnt to the ground and his brother missing.

Burnt to the Ground

Murphy's Law! That was it… that was always freaking it! Dean cursed the often joked upon antic which seemed to plague people at the worst possible time in the worst possible way. In this case it was giving his poor baby a flat tire as he attempted to get back to Bobby's as quickly as possible. Even though Dean knew Bobby was back there keeping an eye on his brother, Sam still had Lucifer riding shotgun and that made the hunter nervous.

"Damn it guys, one of you pick up!" Dean cussed as he cradled his phone on one ear as he jacked the car.

There was no answer which only fueled his nerves and caused Dean to hastened his tire changing job. It didn't take long; I mere fifteen minutes- most of which was spent clearing away stuff to reach the spare- but by the time Dean got back on the road he had successfully gotten no answer either from Bobby nor Sam. Trying to keep calm Dean attempted to convince himself that they were just busy looking stuff up on the leviathan and that they just didn't hear the phones.

"Or Lucifer has convinced Sam that Bobby is one," Dean muttered.

His foot pressed harder on the accelerator.

Forty minutes later the less than stealth Impala pulled up to the street that Bobby's house was on, and Dean's heart lurched. An instant cold feeling filled the pit of his stomach and he slammed his foot on the breaks.

"Oh please no," Dean's voice cracked out.

Ashen puffs of smoke came out of the frame of the house; the smell of burnt wood filling the air. Numbly Dean got out of the car, his eyes wide as his whole body trembled while he looked at the completely destroyed house. Before he had a chance to move or do anything, he heard another car pull up behind him and swiveling around he recognized it as Bobby's.

"Thank God," Dean felt weak at the knees in relief.

This relief was short lived, however, as he saw only one body get out of the car.

"What the hell happened?!" Bobby cried out.

"Bobby where's Sammy?!" Dean's panicked voice overlapped nearly at the same time, eyes wide.

Bobby quickly moved to Dean's side and was staring up at his former house, "I left him here while I went to help Jody Mills."

Dean half collapsed against the Impala and led out a low whisper as he stared at the house, "Sam?"

Bobby instantly ran towards the smoldering house, and after a few moments Dean followed. The tears that came down his face were a bizarre mixture of the fear and smoke as he rushed inside burnt frame of the once beloved Singer house. He could hear the distant sound of Bobby calling out his brother's name, and knew he should be doing the same, but couldn't bring his voice to work. Instead he looked around with wide eyes for any sign of his brother, praying to God that he didn't see any sign of a burnt corpse anywhere.

"Sammy please," by the time he got to what used to be the kitchen Dean finally whispered out the quiet plea, "Please don't be here, please…"

Nothing but charred remains of the house.

Wiping the tears, Dean carefully moved out the backdoor, "Sammy!"

Bobby met him by the backdoor, an equally concerned look on his face.

"Anything?" Dean's voice was hoarse with emotions.

Bobby shook his head and swallowed, "No. I'll go check the back junk pit. You check the west one."

Dean nodded and ran off to his left, "Sam! Sammy!"

Fear rushed through him. If Lucifer was there with him anything could have happened; hell, it could have been Sam that set the fire! No! Dean wouldn't let himself think that. Not even something like Lucifer Vision would convince his brother to burn down Bobby's house; it had to of been the leviathan. But that didn't mean that with his brother waning in and out of reality didn't inhibit his ability to be able to escape the house before it became his own personal inferno.

"Sam! Sam answer me damn it!" Dean's voice cracked as he ran between the vehicles.

It wasn't until he got near the end of one of the rows and he called out his brother's name that he thought he heard a response back to his shout.

"Sammy?"

"Dean…" the voice was quiet, but was unmistakably that of his brother's.

"Sam!" it was like a vicious game of marco-polo as Dean swung his head around to look for where the voice came from.

Finally, he spotted Sam half crouched down by a crushed up Oldsmobile, his shirt charred, and his eyes wide as he stared up at Dean.

"Jesus, Sammy!" Dean cried out rushing over and going down to his knees, "I thought you were freaking dead dude!"

Before Sam could reply, Dean had pulled him into a hug to which the younger brother reciprocated with gusto. Dean was forced to keep the tears at bay again as the smell of smoke from Sam's body entered his nostrils and sudden memories from when he was four entered his mind and that this wasn't the first time his little brother's life was almost taken by a house fire.

"Dean I'm okay," Sam finally said.

Dean wordlessly got to his feet, and then put a hand down to pull Sam up to his.

"Sammy, what the hell happened?" Dean's voice cracked.

Sam shook his head, "I don't know man. One minute I was in the kitchen and then next thing I knew there was a loud crash in the front room and then the whole damn place was on fire."

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" Dean had his hand on the side of Sam's face and was watching his reaction carefully.

"I'm fine Dean," Sam smiled, "I got out. Where's Bobby?"

Dean turned around and looked back at the junk yard, "Back there somewhere. C'mon."

Keeping a hand on his brother, Dean lead him back towards the ruins. It was only a few minutes before the family friend came into sight.

"Bobby!" Dean called out, catching his attention, "I found him!"

"Oh thank God," Bobby jogged over, "Thought I'd lost you boy."

"Not this time," Sam smiled wearily.

Bobby squeezed Sam's shoulder affectionately and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

"Bobby I'm sorry about your place," Sam looked at the smoke that was still pillowing up, "I tried… there was nothing I could do. They were too quick, and-"

"Just hold up a minute," Bobby shook his head, "I don't give a blinds eye about the… stuff… in there. It's all replaceable; hell half of it needed to be burned anyways. It's the things that can't be replaced that matter Son."

The End.