After watching the season finale and becoming soooo angry that they left us hanging all summer with that cliffhanger ending (can you believe it?!) I decided to write my idea of what happens next so that, in my mind, Dean won't be in Hell until the episodes start up again. So here it is, from where No Rest for the Wicked left off—
The house was silent.
Bobby Singer cursed under his breath, his heart racing as he tried once again to break down the door. It was held tight as though by some supernatural force—and he was willing to bet anything that force was Lilith.
He had heard the screams, and he didn't know which was worse—Dean's agonizing shrieks or Sam's horrified yells as he pleaded for her to stop.
Now the house was silent…and Bobby had a hard time believing that was a good sign.
As he prepared to try to break down the door for the hundredth time, it suddenly clicked and swung open a few inches by itself. Throwing caution to the wind, Bobby threw open the door and darted inside. The entire downstairs was pitch black, but he could see light coming from underneath one of the doors. He ran over to it and threw it open—
"Oh…my…God…" he whispered.
Sam was kneeling on the floor, holding Dean's bloody body to himself as he sobbed brokenly into his brother's shoulder. Bobby took a step into the room, his eyes never leaving the two boys who he thought of as his sons. Sam didn't even notice he was there.
Bobby stepped over Ruby's body and silently knelt next to them. Sam never even looked up, he just kept sobbing as though he was never going to stop.
"…Sam…" Bobby whispered, his voice cracking and he reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sam…"
Sam slowly looked up at him with chocolate brown eyes bloodshot and red from crying. He looked up, but he didn't say a word. He didn't have to, really. Bobby already knew everything that was going through his mind.
"Sam…I'm…I'm so sorry…"
Sam violently shook his head, tightening his grip on his brother with one hand as he tried to wipe away the tears streaming down his cheeks with the other. "I-it's not your fault, Bobby. It's not your fault, it's n-not my fault…and it's…definitely…not D-dean's fault."
Bobby nodded. "I—I know that, son. I know."
"This isn't over, Bobby." Sam said, his voice getting stronger, "T-they haven't won. Not this time."
Bobby sighed and bit his lip. He had worried that this would happen. "Sam…you can't—"
"I'm n-not planning on selling my soul, if that's what you're going to say." Sam snapped, "I'm not doing that, Bobby. I'm not playing into the demons' hands again on this sick carousel ride of soul selling that we Winchesters seem to do. Never again. That fixes nothing and causes…causes…" he broke off and another tear rolled down his cheek.
Bobby nodded, running a hand over his face. He was too old to be seeing this kind of pain all the time. "Then what—"
"Lilith got away."
"Yeah. She possessed Ruby and held me down and…and…and let the hellhounds…" Sam looked away. "This isn't over, Bobby."
"Dean isn't staying in hell, not for an hour, not for a damn day. Not for me. I'm not worth that kind of pain." At that, Sam carefully laid his brother's body back on the ground. He paused for a second to run a hand through his hair and then looked back at Bobby, his eyes alert and determined. "We're fixing this."
"Not for long he's not." Sam said firmly. He stood up, and with one last look at Dean he strode out into the hallway.
Bobby watched him go for a second and then jumped up to follow him. Sam went directly to the basement door and swung it open. The family was all sitting pressed up against a concrete wall, staring at the open door in terror. "It's okay." Sam said. "You're safe now."
"A-are they g-gone? Really?" the man choked out, clutching his wife and daughter to him.
"Yeah." Sam said softly. "They're gone."
"A-are you sure?"
"Yes I'm sure." Sam snapped. He paused and then closed his eyes and sighed. "Look…I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're in this situation and I'm sorry I snapped at you…I—I just…"
They didn't say anything, and just continued to stare at him wide eyed.
Sam opened his eyes again. "I need you to do me a favor."
"W-what?" the man whispered.
Sam sighed. "When you come up here, you'll find a man bleeding on the floor in the dining room…he's…he's my brother…and he's dead." Sam took a deep breath and then continued, "I need you to drive to the nearest gas station and buy a huge supply of ice. Put him in the bathtub, fill it with the ice, turn the heat off in the room. I—I'm going to bring him back. I just need you to help me preserve his body until then."
There was a huge pause, and then the wife nodded. "…okay."
Sam nodded, and turned to leave. "Thank you…so much. I'll be back soon, I promise."
He turned and walked away. Bobby caught a hold of his arm. "Wait…" Sam shrugged it off and kept walking, so he grabbed his arm again, "Damn it, Sam, wait!"
Sam turned and looked at him. "What?"
"You—you can't just charge out there…you don't even have a plan!"
Sam shrugged. "Dean's in Hell, Bobby, we don't have time for a plan. I do have an idea, though."
"That's gonna have to be good enough." Sam said, shrugging.
Bobby stepped back and studied his face. "Well…whatever you do…I'm with you. You're sure as hell not carrying out whatever crazy idea you've got by yourself."
Sam nodded and looked up at him, a mad gleam in his eye. "Let's go, Bobby. We've got work to do."
So it begins…
Review and let me know what you think!