Someone was yelling over at Bobby's. That wasn't unusual. He'd been drinking. A lot. And when he got drunk he often got loud.
So Sophie didn't react. She sat and she brushed out her sheep and tried to forget about the weird encounter with trench coat man last night.
The shouting stopped.
She should go check on him.
So Sophie gave the ewe one final affectionate squeeze and made her way across the farm plot to Bobby's house. There was a beat up old car parked out front - one she hadn't seen before and that hadn't yet been disassembled for parts. Sophie gripped her switchblade. It wasn't so unusual for somebody to drop off new cars at the scrapyard. But it couldn't hurt to be prepared.
She pushed open the door, entirely unprepared for what she saw.
Dean.
Alive and in one piece. Dripping wet as Bobby stared at him holding an empty flask of holy water. It took a split second for her brain to react. And then she flung herself at Dean's back.
"It worked!" Sophie cried, the tears she'd somehow kept at bay for the past four months spilling from her eyes.
"Sophie?" Dean spun to face her, cupping her cheek with one hand and pulling her into his chest, "Sophie?"
"You're here," Sophie sobbed, "You're alive!"
"I'm here," he murmured into her hair, "I'm here."
"It worked!" Sophie cried into his chest.
"I missed you baby," Dean whispered, pulling away so he could kiss her lips.
"Now never do that to me again," Sophie said, eyes hardening, "Never."
"Promise."
And then came the inevitable question.
"How's Sam?" Dean asked, still holding Sophie against his chest, "I haven't been able to get a hold of him."
"About that…" Bobby said.