For Helen Bache's Birthday: Hope you like

Bobby stood over the body of the boy that was the nearest thing he had to a son. The cut alone his face the only wound that could be seen, made by his ivory handled knife. The fervor that he felt around his chest slowly loosened as he moved closer to the demon that held his mind trapped.

"Meg you Bitch. Let Bobby go. NOW!" Dean growled as the blood pooled on the floor. Walking over Meg kicked the oldest Winchester in the face. Dean fought to hold on to consciousness as he watched the demon to his downed brother.