"Ssshhh…it's okay….daddy will be back soon….he better be."

Lily watched the door, feeling her stomach churn what was left of her dinner the night before. And there was no way she could eat again, not yet. Sam, Dean, and Bobby had gone to fight Lilith, in the last attempt to save Dean from his damnation. She looked the clock, her leg bouncing up and down. One hour.

"Johnny…sleep…go to sleep…please…."

She begged her one year old son, who sat in her lap, crying. Lily kissed the top of his head. She did not know why he was crying, or why he could not sleep. It could have been Dean and Sam's absence…or because she was pretty sure that he was getting sick. Her cell phone sat on the bed next to her. It was one of four lines of focus: The door, the phone, the clock and her son. As the minutes drew on by she seemed to feel each and every tick of the clock in the depths of her soul. The more that passed without a phone call or the return of the boys…the more hope that faded away. They could not lose Dean. She was not sure Sam could handle it. Finally she stood to lay her son at the head of the bed. He had stopped crying and she knew it was moments before he'd finally fall asleep. She kissed his forehead for a long moment. She did not want this night to be the one she tell her son about years from now…the day he lost his father…

Once he was calm she grabbed her phone and paced the room, looking out the window, back at the clock, and always at the door.

Lily was so wrapped up in her head about what could happen, about what could be happening, she did not realize that her face was stained with tears that had fallen in silence. She wiped them away and stared at the clock, a burning in her chest: when she stopped breathing. Midnight.

To get to 12:01 she felt like she was drowning…and the feeling did not lighten for 12:02, :03, :04…it only got heavier.

Finding most of her body numb, Lily took a seat on the edge of the bed again, hoping for a scrap…of anything.

The hours that seemed like weeks, finally came to a head when the door opened. Lily immediately stood erect, watching Bobby enter the room. His walk told her anything.

"Bobby?" she began. She found that her throat was suddenly dry, and that she could not talk above her heart that caught in her chest. She wanted to hear that everything was okay.

Bobby paused. He looked at her with a pain expression. She had known Bobby for just over two years now…She had never seen that look on his face.

Or anyone else's for that matter.

"He didn't make it," Bobby spoke. Although the effort it took him to speak was apparent in his voice. Bobby was one tough guy, but his eyes glistened as he fought to keep control of himself with every dose of energy he had.

Lily nodded. They knew it had been a possibility for one year…that Dean would leave them. But nothing can prepare you for it. "Where's Sam?" Lily choked on her own words.

Bobby slowly took a seat on one of the motel room chairs, "We…we just buried him. I couldn't get Sam to leave," he explained.

Lily looked at Bobby, then to her son as she felt the tears that she had suppressed came flowing out. She knew no one could help Sam through this moment…not yet. She and Bobby would just have to wait for him to come to them.


Lily was laid on the bed, her son merely inches from her. She stared at Dean's green army duffle, and the clothes strewn out on the bed. She did not have the heart to move them. She felt as though her thoughts were swimming wildly around her mind…but at the same time she felt void.

That's when the door handle turned and Sam entered the room. She sat up slowly and caught his eye. It looked as though someone had ripped his heart clean from his chest. His eyes were red, and dark circles had formed beneath his eyes. He shuffled forward to Dean's bed, still silent. He began to pick up the disheveled clothing and shove it into the duffle with force. Once he'd done that he threw it on the table. Bobby and Lily watched him meticulously. He then headed to the counter and grabbed one of the beers that sat warm and waiting. He popped the top off and drank the entire bottle in a minute's time. He slammed the empty Heineken onto the counter and turned around, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

Finally, Lily spoke, "Sam…" she began, making sure her voice was steady and the tears had stopped. She had never been afraid of Sam, or what Sam might do, until this moment. She got off the bed and closed most of the distance between them. "We'll fix this…" she said. She had no idea how, or when…but she'd make it her mission to make sure that Sam was okay again…even if that meant dragging Dean out of hell with her bare hands.

[Part Two: One Month Later Coming Soon]