Dean had just been dragged off to hell by the hellhounds, ripping him to shreds. Unfortunately, you were there, the closest one witnessing it, and it haunted you. For the few months he was in hell, you got constant hallucinations, and nightmares of his screams. You envisioned his face over and over, until the point where you could not physically get up.

As crazy as it sounded, you heard his screams, you knew it. You could hear him, in hell, screaming for you. It tore you up. The times you were able to get up, you were reading, looking for solutions, or debating taking drastic measures. You never gave up. Not ever, in the weeks he'd been gone.

On a particularly rough day, you'd had another vision, this one of dean crawling out. Confusing. You kept getting flashes of him crawling from the dirt, up from a grave. It didn't take long after that to hear the knock on the door. You disregarded it, brushing it off as another salesman.

Until you heard his voice. Rough, but exactly the same. The energy flowed back into your body, like you had before that day. You stumbled down the stairs, peeking over, as dean finally managed to convince Bobby he wasn't a demon, but rather the same old dean he always was.