Sophie came with them to find Sam and stayed as they tried to sort out how Dean was rescued. She kept her mouth shut. She wasn't about to tell them about trench coat man. Not until she had proof of what he'd done and who he was.
She also wouldn't let Dean out of her sight. And as he slept on the shitty couch in Sam's awful hotel room, a pile of research in his lap and her in his arms, things almost felt normal. Until the deafening ringing started in his ears and all the glass began to shatter.
Sophie sat in the car while Sam and Dean tried to summon whoever it was that got him out of hell. Trench coat man, Sophie assumed. She put up with a lot for Dean. But she wasn't summoning things. She was still a good Catholic after all.
So she waited. And she waited. Then suddenly the wind tore at Bobby's car and Sophie ducked her head, hiding under the dashboard with her hands clamped over her ears. She prayed so hard that this was trench coat man coming back. And she prayed so hard that he was from God. Otherwise…well she didn't want to think about that.
Dean stumbled out ten minutes later, carrying Bobby's limp body over his shoulders.
Sophie rushed from the car.
"He's fine," Dean assured her, dumping Bobby in the front seat, "I'm fine."
"And a Polish guy in a trench coat just came and told you God rescued you from the pit?" Sophie asked.
"How the heck did you know that?" Dean asked.
"I may or may not have spent the day you died asking one hundred and ninety-seven monks, nuns, and priests to pray that God would get you out," Sophie replied sheepishly.
For a long moment Dean just hugged her.
"Thank you," he whispered.