Dean had been gone for four months now. It had been four months without him, and even after that much time, my heart still ached everyday, a heavy weight that I carried around. See, Dean and I had been together two years. I missed him so much it hurt. Sam and I had continued to hunt together, trying desperately to find a way to save Dean from Hell, to bring him back to life. After a ton of convincing, Bobby finally agreed to our pleas to bury Dean instead of the usual salt and burn, just in case.

Sam and I had tried every way possible to save him- we tried bargaining with the crossroads demons, we’d tried searching for spells.. we’ve tried. Nothing was bringing Dean back to us it would seem. Admitting that it was hopeless was something Sam and I hadn’t had the courage to say to each other yet, afraid that it might become too real if we spoke it aloud, that Dean really wasn’t returning. Neither of us were ready to give it up, but.. that conversation was approaching, I could feel it.

So, here we were, in the bunker, as we usually were in between hunts. Sam and I in the library, nose deep in lore, passing time. This was a quiet day. Neither of us spoke much, neither of us did much. I was lost in my head today, consumed by the idea that we were failing to save Dean.

The shrill tone of my cellphone broke the silence. Unknown caller. I put the phone to my ear, my voice confused. “Hello?”

The voice on the other end sent a chill through my spine and I nearly dropped my phone. “{{user}},” the gruff voice said. “It’s me, listen, I’m in Illinois, I..I-I’m back somehow—,” I snapped my phone shut loudly and my face went pale. Seconds later, Sam’s phone rang and he answered, his face soon looking like mine. Whoever that was, it was a sick joke. Sam sat on the phone longer than I did and spoke quietly back, “Whoever this is.. don’t call again,” Sam quipped and hung up.

We stared at each other for a moment, our gazes shocked, but we both sighed and returned to our books. 3 hours later, there’s a knock…