I Just Called to Say...
K Hanna Korossy

"Hey, Bobby, it's Dean."

"And a merry Christmas to you, too. About time you two called."

"Oh, yeah." He scratched the back of his head. "Uh, sorry about that. You know those Anti-Claus pagan gods we were hunting? We ran into some trouble whacking them…"

A sigh. "Of course you did. So, you just calling to wish me a happy new year, or…?"

"No. No, I just—well, we wanted to give you a heads-up. Word is there's a new player in town, somebody bigger and badder than Azazel. And he wants Sam's head on a platter."

Bobby's voice sharpened. "Any word who?"

"Nope." Pause. "But, uh, keep your ear to the ground, huh? We've got enough on our tail without something nasty having the hots for Sam, and I'm not gonna be here much longer to keep an eye on him."


"Just…promise me, okay?"

"Like you even have to ask."

"Thanks, Bobby." Click.


"Hey, Bobby. It's Sam."

"You've sounded better, boy. You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm… No. Not really. It's just…it's a really long story, but we thought you should know, turns out we didn't kill that trickster last time."

"What happened?" Sharper.

"He, uh…" Sam rubbed his eyes, wrinkled his nose. "We were in Florida, looking into a disappearance. And he…killed Dean. Over and over. Some kind of, I don't know, lesson about us being each others' weakness or something."

"Like that's news." Then, softer. "Dean all right?"

"Yeah, he's-he's good. We're okay."

"That's good. So, did you get the son of a bitch this time?"

"No. We're not hunting him, Bobby. I promised him if he brought Dean back…"

"Relax, kid, it's okay. Sometimes that's just the way the balls break. Sounds like you did the right thing."

"Yeah. I… Uh, I'm sorry, Bobby."

"For what?"



"Bobby, hi, just saw that you'd call—"

"Dean? That really you? You and Sam all right?"

"Mostly. Why—? Oh. You saw the news. Right. We were gonna—"

"Well, next time it's all over the news that you two are dead," it was a growl, "make sure you let me know if it's not true."

Wince. "Um. Sorry?"

Swearing. Click.


"Bobby? It's Sam."

"Hey, Sam."

"Listen, I just wanted to tell you before Dean calls… I've been practicing my powers. With Ruby. While Dean was gone…I just couldn't—"


"—it's just been exorcisms—I thought I could save people without killing them, but—"


"—but Dean's right, it's playing with fire. So I'm stopping. But, uh, just thought you should know." Pause. "Bobby?"

"You finished now?"

"Uh, I think so?"

"Good. And, I already guessed. Heard some whispers and put a few facts together—you can't do a run of successful exorcisms like that without word getting out."

"Oh. You didn't-you didn't say anything."

A deep inhale. "You're a big boy now, Sam. I figured you'd tell your brother when it was time. And…you aren't the only one who did some things he's not proud of while your brother was at Satan's barbeque." More gruffly, "For what it's worth, though, I'm glad you quit."

"Yeah. Thanks. Really."

"Now go to bed, you idjit. It's quarter to three."

"Oh, right. Sorry."



"Bobby, hey. Back from the Dominican yet?"

"Unfortunately. But I'm glad you called—you wanna tell me why my panic room looks like a tornado went through it?"

"Uh, 'cause it sorta did?"

"Start talking, Dean."

"Look, you know Anna, the girl the angels were hot for? Turns out she used to be on the Halo Brigade, too—that's why they were looking for her. But she got her mojo back in time to take out this demon, Alastair, I knew from…down below."

"So…you remember Hell."

Dean closed his eyes, brow drawing in. "I remember. Ghost sickness shook something loose, I guess—I don't know…"

"Well, I'm so glad you called to tell me."

"I didn't even…" He pinched his nose. "I didn't even tell Sam, he just figured it out. I'm not…I don't want to talk about it, all right?"

Gentler. "Yeah. I hear ya. But you know my number if you do."

A near smile. "As often as we call you? Not gonna forget it anytime soon."

"That's 'cause you morons get into more trouble than a litter of caffeinated puppies."

"Yeah, love you, too, Bobby."

Grumble. Click.


"This is Singer. You know what to do." Beep.

"Hey, Bobby. It's Sam. Dean's, uh… He's in the hospital. The angels…the angels asked him to torture Alastair for them, except you know them, it wasn't really asking, and Alistair…he got free somehow, turned the tables. Dean's pretty messed up. He's gonna be all right, just…it's gonna be a long haul, and I thought you should know." He nodded. "Right. I guess that's it." Sam grimaced, shoulders slumping. "Bobby, IkilledAlastairbutIdidn't—"

Beep. Click.


"Hey, Bobby? It's Dean. Listen, uh you're not gonna believe this, but guess what? Looks like we're famous!..."


"Did you know about Adam, Bobby?"

"What? Sam? What the—?"

"Adam Milligan. Dad's other son. Did you know?"

A long pause. "No, but that explains a few things. Your daddy was a real piece of work. So, what, the kid found you?"

Another long pause. "Not before a ghoul found him and his mom. Dean's just getting the body."

"Crap. I'm sorry, kid."

He swallowed hard. "Dean's coming back—I gotta go. Maybe we can…we can swing by sometime soon, huh?

"Anytime, Sam, you know that."

He nodded at the phone. Click.


"Bobby, it's me." He bowed his head. "I know what's been up with Sam lately. Should've seen it before—the mood swings, the anger, the secrets and the taking off all the time. He's been drinking demon blood, Bobby. I think he's addicted to the stuff."

Carefully. "You sure?"

A bitter laugh. "Saw it myself, so, yeah, pretty friggin' sure." A pause. "I need a safe place for him."

"Door's always open. Think we'll need some extra protection for this, though."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking, too. And your little lockbox should keep that demon bitch away from him, so, bonus."

"You know you won't be able to stay with him, either, right?" Gentle but firm.

"What?" He frowned. "'Course I will—he's gonna need help fighting this, Bobby."

"And we'll make sure he has it, from outside the locked door. Dean, this isn't a regular addiction—you really wanna be in the same room with him when Sam's powers start having the DTs? This isn't gonna just be the shakes and runs—for all we know, they could rip you apart."


"Think about it, Dean! You want to risk it just to be there when he's out of his head and not in control? Or you want to be around for the part after where he'll need you to pick up the pieces."

Dean's breath rasped in the silence. Finally, "I gotta go. Sam's gonna be finished cleaning up in a minute. Just…give it an hour, then call him up, tell him… I don't know, tell him you got something to show us."

"Dean, just think about what—"



"This is Singer. You know what to do." Beep.

"Bobby, I'm…I'm sorry. I got no excuse. I'm just—"

"Dude, stop." The phone was audibly wrestled away."Sorry, Bobby, it's Dean. Thought you'd be sitting by your phone, but, uh, guess you probably heard already. We screwed up—Lucifer's out. We're on the move now, but give us a call when you get this and we'll meet."


"Shut up, Sam."

Click. Beep.



"Bobby, it was War, with a capital W. I think maybe the four freakin' horsemen are on the loose. We took him out of the game for now, but this ain't over yet. You hear me? Man, I know you're there—pick up the phone!"




"It's me, Bobby. Sam and I…we, uh, decided to go separate ways for a while. His idea, actually, but I think it's a good one. Maybe we'll screw up less if we don't have to worry about each other, right? Anyway…don't call me back, just wanted you to know. Okay." Click.




"Bobby, I… I don't know what to do. Lucifer's… He's got this plan for me and I can't fight him by myself, but Dean… Dean's done with me and I can't blame him, you know? I don't, but… God, I don't know what to do anymore." An unsteady laugh. "When'd things get so screwed up? I didn't-didn't want any of… Never mind. I…I'll figure something out. Right. Tell Dean I'm… Whatever. Bye, Bobby." Cli—

"Sam! Answer me, boy. You still there?"



"Hey, Bobby."

"What now?"

"So, uh. Met the antichrist today."

"That so?"

"He's a kid, a good kid. Reminded me a lot of Sam when he was that age."

"Right. The guy you're not talking to."

"Actually, uh, he's right here. Zach paid me a visit and, uh… Well, doesn't matter. Point is, we're on a reunion tour, gonna make our own way. I think we're still stronger together." Pause. "Bobby?"

"I'm here."

"You okay?"

"Oh, I'm dandy. Just gonna go have some chocolate now and write in my diary." Click.


"Hey, Bobby, it's Sam. Remember that trickster? You're not gonna believe this, but that's not exactly what he is…"


"It's me. I got some news on the Colt."


"Straight from the prophet's mouth. Says a demon named Crowley's got it—Sam's already got his geek on looking into him."

"Huh. That name sounds kinda familiar… I'll see what I can find at my end."

Dean licked his lips. "Look, I know I don't have the right to ask, but…can we stop in, stay for a little bit?"

"Check up on me?" Sarcastically. "Keep me company?"

"Hey, I think we all need that right now, don't you? Don't know about you, Bobby, but Sam and me, we haven't got too many friends left out here."

A pause, slow breath out. "You know where I am."

"We'll be there tomorrow." Distant mumbling. "Sam says hi, too, and 'we'll bring the beer.'" Offside, "Dude, you're paying for that."


"Yeah, Bobby."

"Next time you call, could you try not to make it about the end of the world? Sometimes I like just talking about the damn weather."

A soft chuckle. "Man, I hear ya."

"See ya."

"Yeah, you too."


The End