merely borrowing here... short Dean and Bobby moment
He sat there, looking at the lined face. He didn't need to study it, didn't need to follow the deep traces time and worry had left in the plain of the older man's face. He could see right through all that; and he knew. He knew.
He knew that he loved this man. And that this man loved him—like a father was supposed to love his son. Like his father should have loved him… You didn't need to be able to walk for that.
They were family; despite the fact that they didn't share the same blood. Blood was one overrated component of relationships anyway… So, may God and his freakin' angels forbid that he'd ever let the old man go. He wouldn't. He couldn't.
He might be one great idjid, but he wasn't stupid enough not to know that he'd only be able to see all of this through with an even greater idjid right by his side.
"Come on, old man, we don't wanna go all chick flick on Sam and make him burst into tears now, do we?" he eventually joked, pretending ease and exiting the room.
How he wished to be able to just leave his personal demons behind then. But those he had to carry along with him at all times. They were immune to rock salt. They would stay.
But with Bobby by his side, he could deal with them. With Bobby right there, he'd be okay.
He'd be okay…
Thanks for reading...