Author's Notes: Kay, had to write something after that last episode because Sam's smirk? Seriously the creepiest moment the show has ever had. I think I screamed. I left the idea a bit vague, mainly because I really have no clue what's up with Sam and I'm waiting for the writers to make it all better. And oh, it better be good to screw up our boys so bad. Anyway, please enjoy and review.

Summary: Bobby knows these boys and he thinks he should have seen. Slight spoiler for 06x05. Unhinged!Sam.

Home

Bobby read through the lines of text again, double checking to make sure he hadn't missed anything in translation. God, this was a headache…

Sighing wearily, the hunter rose from his desk and turned to the shelf behind him to re-file the tome of lore. He still had a couple more he could check. Not like information on Hell and the like was scarce, but accurate information was another matter. Picking one out, he thumbed through it briefly. Not turning around, he spoke in a calm, unassuming voice.

"You taken to just skulking about in doorways now, boy?"

Bobby turned as Sam inched forward into the faint light of the room. The kid leaned against the door way, looking sideways and down, anywhere really except Bobby's direction.

The older hunter pressed his lips together as he took in Sam's appearance. He looked like that little kid that John had dropped off on his doorstep so many times and so many years ago. All unsure and cagey, hiding behind his big brother.

His brother who was currently, finally, asleep after days of refusing to rest until Sam did. The mind can try all it wants, but sometimes the body just can't follow and Dean's had reached it's limit for sleep deprivation. By all accounts, Sam should be out too. Especially with what he'd been through…

But Sam didn't sleep anymore.

Near as they could tell anyway. In the days since getting Sam back, the real Sam, Bobby and Dean had yet to see the boy sleep or eat. It could be psychological, it could be that Sam didn't need those things anymore, they didn't know. Hence the research.

Both of them were just so damn happy to have Sam back, they didn't really care about the details. Except now when the initial feelings of elation had dimmed and they were able to see that, yes, Sam was here but he still wasn't with them. He would try to smirk and walk around the house and yard with Dean when he asked him to in that pleading older brother voice, but Sam had only said a few words to Dean and had only once looked him in the eye. He hadn't looked at Bobby at all.

Bobby thought maybe Sam was scared of him, thought the older man believed he was still…wrong. But he had to know better than that, right? He loved these boys.

Maybe, Bobby thought, Sam was angry with him. Because he had come to Bobby and he hadn't seen. Hadn't saved him.

And Bobby should have known, damn it. Should have picked up right away that what had come to his door that night a year ago hadn't been Sam. It had been pieces of the kid, trapped inside a shell. Just enough to convince the surrogate father that his boy was home. And the rest…was cold, inhuman. Stamping down on those soft urges that remained and keeping Sam trapped, Caged, literally.

He should have called Dean and told him what was happening. Should have done something, anything, that would have saved the kid sooner. Instead, it had taken Dean being turned into a vamp while Sam watched and smirked, smiled, to get Bobby to believe that Sam wasn't just damaged or wrong; this wasn't Sam. Not really.

Once they got Castiel involved, the rest had gone by in a blur. Everything moved so fast as the three raced to save their brother, friend, son, who had died for them and who still had the majority of his soul locked up with two pissed off archangels.

They had managed to pull the rest of Sam out of the Pit, but it had been rough. The residual darkness inside Sam, (and Cas may have explained something about being 'Lucifer's vessel' and 'lingering evil', but Bobby didn't really care about all that), had been pushed out and his being returned. Fractured, but not broken. At least, that's what they hoped.

Bobby turned his attention to the cautious little boy he had known, in the body of the man he regarded as his own. He kept his voice even, not hard or placating. This was still Sam, all of Sam now, and he would treat him as such.

"Sam?"

Sam swallowed and licked his lips nervously, his fingers fidgeting on the door frame. Slowly, he formed the words and pressed them out in a breath.

"You're not dead."

Bobby's shoulders dropped and his breath caught a bit. That's what Sam had been so freaked about. He wasn't upset with or afraid of Bobby. He thought that he was dead; that Lucifer in Sam's skin had killed him. Sam hadn't said much, and they didn't want to press him yet, so he and Dean had no idea what he remembered. And if he didn't remember anything after the fall…

'Aw, kid…'

Bobby measured his words.

"No, I'm not." The grizzled hunter wanted to reach out to Sam, at least approach him, but he didn't. Sam was so skiddish and he didn't want to disrupt this breakthrough.

The brunette seemed to consider his words for a bit, eyes darting about and maybe mulling something over in his head. To himself, Bobby hoped, because they still weren't a hundred percent sure on that. Finally, Sam's lips twitched up a bit.

"I'm glad you're alive." He whispered softer, "Really glad."

The words that seemed so hard for Sam to put together may have misted Bobby's eyes a bit, but he would never admit it. He sensed that Sam had said what he intended and was about to pull away. Bobby called out to him.

"Sam."

The kid startled like he'd been caught at something, but Bobby pressed on, tone even and firm. He needed to see.

"Look at me." The hunter watched as Sam seemed to fight with himself over the request. He waited patiently until Sam cautiously, incrementally, pulled his gaze up to meet Bobby's. The man smiled as he finally saw those hazel eyes, filled with trepidation and cautious hope. "We're alright."

Sam nodded haltingly and managed to keep his focus for a few moments before lowering his head again. He backed out of the room slowly, likely back to the chair he had been inhabiting lately to pretend that he was watching tv. Trying to be normal, trying to make them stop worrying and fussing over him. Bobby made a note to let Dean know about Sam's memory issues, but smiled to himself.

They had been fumbling around in the dark so long, scrabbling for purchase…They had a foot hold now, a place to start, to get to Sam and each other and rebuild their blood-beyond-blood family that Bobby valued above all else.

The hunter sat down at his desk and allowed himself to just bask in that revelation for a while.

They had a way home.